Blood Lust: Betrayer's Waltz
by Vestque the Artist
Summary: Owen and the turtles discover what it means to be “too close for comfort” as Owen moves in. Will they all be able to adjust to the new and drastic change? Meanwhile, evil brews in the shadows…Can it be tamed? Complete. Part III of a Three Part Series.
1. Chapter One

Disclaimer:…Do not own turtles, but I do own Owen AND Centrice…so that ALMOST makes up for it, but not quite…

Chapter One

He just could not sleep! Not even to save his life…

Donatello sighed before giving up.

Yup, it would be another sleepless night; another tired day.

Ever since he had gotten over his initial sickness at his "turning," he ended up learning, through experience, that the dub "The Creatures of the Night" was no lie.

And he had the restlessness to prove it.

Carefully, he detached himself from the sleeping Centrice. He watched her as she stirred, but nothing more. She would not wake up.

And for that he was glad.

At first, when he had his nightly roams, he had been by himself, so he really didn't have to explain himself to anyone. But now, that was not the case. As of yesterday, Centrice had taken off of work, an official vacation now spent in the turtle's lair.

What could have been better?

They spent every waking moment together, just as they always wanted to. And since everything now became two, if she woke up, this would be no exception.

But she needed her sleep. That was a given. She did not express the nocturnal nature that he did. So instead of waking her up to join him, he would rather let her have her "beauty rest" as she so cleverly put it.

But that didn't mean he couldn't watch her as she slept.

He sighed, admiring her sleeping form, but soon the pull of activity got too strong, pulling him away. He stood, stretching. His mind told him that it was about three in the morning, and one look at his clock told him that he was right. Although that was weird, he didn't bother to give it a second thought as he made his way to the door. In the hallway he headed for the kitchen, but couldn't help but stop and stare at the closed door at the end of the hall.

It was formally a storage room, but now, it belonged to Owen.

It felt so weird having him here, and he had only been there for a few hours. Breakfast would be an event with the new addition, that much was certain. So many questions about his life style had popped into his head at the thought of the vampire actually living with him, but he never had the gall to ask.

What foods did Owen eat? Did he sleep all day and prowl all night like a normal (mythical) vampire? Did he sleep in a coffin?…

Well, the last one was kind of silly, but still, the questions were endless.

However, now it seemed as though he would finally get his answers. Besides…

Owen lived _right there!_

Breaking his gaze from the still door, he continued his journey to the dark kitchen. _'A little mid-night snack never hurt anyone…' _He thought as his stomach growled in agreement.

He opened the fridge only to bypass the rather large growing pile of transfusing pack as he searched the white box for food. When he first came, Owen had put the packs in there before asking for his room, of which, he hasn't left ever since. Now, a white box of leftover pizza occupied the bottom shelf, catching his attention instead. He opened it and sniffed.

Still good.

Well that settles it.

He had found his midnight snack.

Placing two of the cold slices on at nearby plate, he made his way over to the microwave. The beep beeping soon filled the room. He waited for his food. He smiled at the thought of how much like old times this moment had become.

Waiting for his pizza…

As if on cue the saucy aroma began to fill the room, causing his already hungry stomach to rumble in anticipation.

Just a few more seconds…

"Hey, what are you doing up?"

Uh-oh, busted!

However, with a look over his shoulder, he realized that it was only Raph. Raph watched Don dejectedly as the microwave beeped. His nose picked up on the aroma immediately.

"You're eating pizza, at this ungodly hour?" His voice portrayed his wonder as he hit Donny with a look. At that, Donny looked up at his speech, his cheeks heating up as he did. This definitely was an awkward situation.

But from years of experience, he knew exactly how to get out of it.

"Wanna slice?"

At that, Raphael's gaze widened before going thoughtful. "I thought you would never ask!" He pulled up a chair, turning it around to straddle the back as Don retrieved the pizza from the microwave. He went to get another plate, but Raph waved him away while reaching for his slice.

He could use his hands.

Don sat, their small meal commencing as he did. The den stirred in its calm as the small noises of the night resonated thereof. A clank there, a small scurry here.

Basically, the music of the night.

They both listened to the music that was their den as they ate in silence. Suddenly, Raph stopped as if remembering something, but did not look up from his plate. However, the silence was soon broken by the quiet sound of Raph's accented voice.

"What's it like?"

Don looked up from his cheesy goodness at Raph's sudden words.

"What?" He mumbled through a mouthful of pizza.

Raph never looked up from his pizza although he did neglect to eat anymore.

"What's it like Don, to be a…"

Don raised an eye ridge.

"A Vampire?"

Raph nodded, finally looking up. Don couldn't help but look into his dark eyes as he did. There was embarrassment there; however, it was overridden by something else.

Raph was genuinely curious.

At first, Don didn't know what to think. He and Raph hardly talked. Being so different they just never got to know each other like with Mike or Leo, even though they were all brothers. They just never had a junction to connect with.

So, for Raph to join him now, and ask him such things, Don had to doubt if Raph was sincere in his inquiries, or was he just pulling his leg as some sort of joke.

However, one more look at his eyes told him that Raph was completely truthful.

He really did want to know.

Don smiled as the doorway to a new relationship with his brother suddenly opened.

"Well…" He thought about it. What was it like? How could he describe it without it being too confusing, or without losing Raph all together? "It's like…"

He had nothing.

Raph watched him as Don thought, a slight frowning at the extended silence. Maybe some prompting would help…

"Is it like, power?" He asked. His hands folded on the wooden tabletop as he leaned onto his elbows. He watched Donatello thoughtfully, a glint in his eye. "I always believed that when you turned into a vampire, along with it came absolute power…" Don watched him measurably.

__

'What did he mean, 'always?'…' Oblivious to Don's thoughts, Raph continued, his gaze going distant as he spoke.

"And that when you're a vampire, you are…untouchable. Like…_true _power, ya know?" His gaze fell on Donatello, his eyes questioning as well as piercing.

He was expecting an answer.

However, the gaze only seemed to make Donatello more and more uneasy.

__

'Since when has he gotten all physiological?'

****

'Since when has he begun to believe in vampires, because from the way it sounds, it was way before you turned.'

Yeah, now that he thought about it, the voice was right. These questions were not just 'spur of the moment', questions. These questions were defiantly old questions, questions that had floated through his brother's mind for a while, maybe even years.

But what triggered them now?

**__**

'Well, Duh! You're a vampire. That much is obvious. He can ask you now because you're his brother, and a vampire, therefore you wouldn't laugh at him, like you all did when he first got into that kind of stuff?'

'Wait, what?!'

****

'Fourteen Years ago…'

Don blinked. Fourteen years was a long time, and even now his memory was a little foggy. But then he remembered, his mind clicking as he did. That book. That stupid book Raph had taken to. "Folklore and Myths" or something of the sort; they had all teased him because of it.

Because he was into such silly things.

However, now that he thought about it, Raph had never mentioned that book or what he thought about it after that ridiculing incident ever again, and likewise, they had never seen the book again.

That only meant that Raph still had it…or just threw it away.

But, the more he thought about Raph's words, smaller and smaller went the chances of Raph throwing the book away so many years ago. Even more came the idea that Raph still had the book, stashed away in his room somewhere. He might even still read it…

Meanwhile, Raph watched Donny as he waited for the answer to his question of many years. However, when none came, he sighed dejectedly. He stood, the pizza forgotten in a sea of embarrassment and shame.

__

'I knew I shouldn't have asked. Now he probably thinks I'm stupid!' He turned to leave, but was stopped by a very quiet and very hesitant voice.

"It's like…awareness."

Raph stopped, turning. Was Don answering his questions? The look that Don gave him only confirmed his suspicions.

He was.

Smiling, he sat. He felt a giddiness he hadn't felt since he was little, but he welcomed all the same. Donatello would answer his queries.

"Awareness? What do ya mean?"

Don blinked, Raph had seemed to come alive at his words, sitting with a childish giddy that he couldn't remember seeing on the usually angry and disgruntled turtle in red. Don couldn't help but feel as though he had just reached a milestone. After twenty two endless years of searching, he had finally found something that Raph _actually_ cared about, and it had been right underneath his nose the whole time…

At Raph's wide and imploring eyes, Don continued, feeling more like a story teller than he would have liked to.

"Well, it's like…all of your senses have been heightened beyond anything you had ever known. You hear things that would have never been able to hear…" His mind went back to when he found the _Plane_. "…Or see things you never would have been able to see…"

At that Raph grinned, finally nodding. That seemed like a satisfactory answer. However, as fate would have it, the answers were not finished, for soon, another voice sounded out, his own thoughts on the subject coming out as well.

"Although Donatello is right, he did not hit it completely on the head. There _is_ more…he just doesn't know it yet." A pale figure stepped out from the shadows, his black midriff contrasting greatly with his white skin. He took his own seat as the turtles just watched him in silent awe, their conversation ceasing instantly. He smiled smugly at their expressions.

It was Donatello who found his voice first.

"Good Morning, Owen…"

-

Hey, this took no time at all! Yay! The Beginning of the End, it's finally here!!! More coming soon! Keep Posted, R and R in the meantime though…


	2. Chapter Two

Cooler, ready for more? Well here it is!

Disclaimer:…Yes?

Chapter Two

__

"Good Morning Owen…"

"Good Morning Donatello,…Raphael." Owen nodded to the sitting turtles at their names before taking a seat of his own. He had come out for a midnight snack only to find that he was not the first. Two of the four turtles were awake and chatting in the kitchen. The subject…he had found that just as interesting. He walked in, to see if he could give some real answers (in other words, to give Donatello A mini-lesson on what to expect) but was sidetracked by…something else. He eyed the pizza absently before making a comment of his own.

"Is it turtle custom to eat…takeout…so early in the morning?"

Raph would have laughed if he wasn't suddenly so damn nervous. However, Don did laugh, if you call an uneasy chuckle laughing.

Owen raised an eyebrow. He had meant it as a joke but at the response he had gotten from the turtles, he wasn't so sure if they took him seriously or not.

Well, it really didn't matter now, so he let it go.

Sighing, he stood, and with that went his attempted to be over-friendly. The turtles watched him as he made his way to the fridge and peered inside. Don's heart fell in dread. _'He's gonna drink blood…now?!'_

However, the notion was thrown away at Owen next move. To both turtles' surprise, Owen picked up the white pizza box instead.

"Is there any left?" He asked the turtles while motioning to the box in his grasp. Both turtles just stared, their expressions uncharacteristically blank.

"Yo-You eat pizza??!!?!" Raph blinked.

"I could ask you guys the same thing." Was Owen's retort. Don and Raph threw him identical quizzical looks. He sighed, but pointed to the box anyway. "I'm starved. Do you mind?"

With wide gazes both turtles shook their heads.

"Knock yourself out."

"We don't mind."

The only sounds that followed were the beep beeping of the microwave and then the sounds of Owen falling back into his chair to wait on his slice of pizza. He took this time to explain his first statement after noticing that both of the turtles still watched him quizzically.

"As wild turtles, you would have usually only feasted on vegetation and such. But I guess whatever changed you all changed your appetites as well." He smiled a little, remembering the sausage, pepperoni, mushroom and green pepper pizza he just put in the microwave. The turtles watched him silently, nodding a little at his explanation, before falling silent all together. Somewhere in the background, the microwave beeped. Raph watched as Owen stood, this time to retrieve his pizza. As soon as he came back, he dug in, which seemed to spark Don's appetite for he soon continued his meal as well. Raph looked down at his own half-finished pizza. He really wasn't that hungry... As he watched the two before him, Raph's curiosity soon got the best of them.

"Why are you guys so hungry?" He asked. The question seemed weird, but it came out before he could even reconsider asking it. However, Owen didn't seem to mind as he absently turned to the turtle in red, chewing thoughtfully.

"It's the vampirian instinct. Usually, this would be our time to hunt, as our ancestors did. But like you, we've changed as well…" Donatello looked up. He wasn't expecting that kind of answer. It did explain more, but likewise, it put more questions in his mind as well. He pushed the food to the side of his mouth, which gave him just enough room to speak.

"What do you mean by…hunt?" He almost feared the answer. Meanwhile, Owen put down his food, sitting back. With both of the turtles' attention, he sighed.

__

'Well, looks like a 'Question and Answer' forum is inevitable now…'

On the outside, Owen turned to face his one and only student. This was what he had wanted, a way to answer Donatello's questions. The heritage of the '_Vampire'_ was a deep and thick heritage indeed. It was about that time in their studies that Donny should know about it, since it would lead right into their next group of lessons. However, he was glad that these lessons found themselves instead of him having to go and spark them up in conversation somehow, which was a paradox within itself.

He sucked at casual conversations, period. He couldn't imagine just starting one…

But it looked like this time he didn't have to start it, which was a blessing within itself.

Now all he had to do was finish it…

And that he could do.

Setting in for the long conversation he knew was coming, he finished his plate and placed the dish in the empty sink. He sat down, knowing he would be there for a while, as he watched the turtles thoughtfully. Both of their gazes were now on him, and for once, that's how he wanted it. It was then that he began. The hunt was…

"Well, Donatello. Usually, our ancestors would have hunted live prey…humans…"

Both Don and Raph blinked at this bit of information, the same thought popping into both of their heads. However, between the two of them, only Raph had the guts to ask.

"Did they kill the humans?"

There was a small silence before Owen responded. Slowly, hesitantly, Owen nodded. At that both Raph and Don frowned sharply. However, before either of them could say anything, Owen realized that he had found bad favor and quickly reassured them.

"But we don't do it now! We have methods of getting blood that is outside of the box of "killing" the humans. For example, the most used method is to hypnotize the human through telekinesis. That way, the vampire can make a scratch on the base of the human's neck or on the arm, or leg (Somewhere not too obvious.), drink a small amount from that human, and then let it go. Although it does cause for more time spent hunting, it works." Owen shrugged a little, lowering his head in thought.

Donny, however, was not satisfied.

"Why would it take more time?"

Owen looked up once again. He still wasn't use to their questions and inquiries. However, they seemed interested at least; Raph catching his every word as Don watched him expectantly. So, he could do this since they needed to know. "Well, since we only collect a small amount of blood from each human, it would take more humans to get one's fill or take less spread out feedings instead."

Don nodded solemnly, as did Raph. That was understandable. Owen sighed, remembering the other reason why humans were not killed.

"Besides, at AVTech we make it our policy not to kill humans. It's wrong no matter for what, and that my policy as well!" He swelled in pride at the mention of his life long beliefs. However, that seemed not to be what caught the turtles attention.

"AVTech?" Don repeated the strange sounding name as if tasting it. Owen nodded.

"Advanced Vampiric Technical, or AVTech for short. It's our headquarters."

He watched the turtles now for their reactions, and was not surprised by the blank and confused looks he received from both.

Raph shook his head, his brow furrowing in puzzlement.

"You guys have a headquarters?"

On the inside Owen sighed and rolled his eyes_. 'Is there an echo in here?' _But on the outside he made sure to keep his patience in check. It would not help anything if he became short tempered. Besides, he was supposed to be teaching them, wasn't he? And that meant being patient with them as well…

Owen nodded to the turtle in red, as he explained further. "It's the head of our organization. Kind of like the check point for all vampires. Actually, AVTech is one of a few dozen headquarters all over the world, but we are the largest and most powerful." He smiled a little at this, his pride coming back stronger than ever. Meanwhile, Raph soaked in the new information as quickly as it came. He leaned back in his chair while listening to Owen, thinking it over as it came. When Owen was finished, Raph eyed him with interest before asking the new questions that crossed his mind.

"So, there are a lot of you?" Raph smiled smugly at his new assumption. He already knew the answer. Of course where were a lot; but it was Owen's numbers that threw him off.

"If you mean Vampires, then yes. Over the entire globe, we reach numbers of about 120 million."

Raph barely hid is surprise as his eyes went wide.

That was a lot of vampires.

Well then, that meant…

"You guys are everywhere!" Don sat up at the numbers, his eyes also widening a little. However, his exclamation had mistakenly been a little bit too loud. He soon quieted as all three of them hushed, listening to see if they had awaken anyone.

They heard nothing except for the whistle of a few pipes in the distance.

Owen continued.

"Yes, you guys have probably run into our kind at one time or another. But like you, we tend to stay to the shadows…" He trailed off, not sure if he had hit a personal spot with the turtles, but with no outside reactions from either turtle, he sighed. A silence settled into the room as the turtle dwelled on the new info. Vampires were everywhere, and right under their noses too.

It was a lot to soak in.

Don thought back to all of the people of his past. All of the faces he had seen. When he was younger, he used to travel to the roof tops under the concealment of darkness just to watch those people as they walked below. He remembered how envious he had been of their carefree lives. They would walk obliviously, not knowing how blessed they were to even be able to. But now, to think that some of those lives were not as carefree as he had thought…it gave him a new perspective on life.

To think, they were not along. There were others, too, had to work under the concealment of darkness…

Meanwhile, Raph just thought about the sheer numbers of it. One hundred and twenty million people was a lot.

"And there all registered at the headquarters'?" Both Owen and Donny looked up from their own thoughts at Raph's question. Then Don, too, turned an inquisitive glace towards the still vampire.

That was a good question…

"Well…no." Owen stated dejectedly. This part of the story he really didn't want to get in to. There were bad vampires, just like there were bad people. And just like people, not all vampires agreed with the system.

Not all vampires believed that a human's lives were as valuable as their own.

And Trevor was a good example of those vampires. One example.

However, there were more….That's where the Vapanese Penitentiaries came into play.

It's against Vampirian law to kill a human on purpose. And for that, there are trials and sentences. Many of the convicts serve time at the penitentiaries, and since vampires hardly died, (being immortal as they were) the vast amount of incarceration was meant to break their spirits or teach them a lesson at the very least, rather than kill them.

However, sometimes, vampires escaped.

Unsafe and wanted, the escapees stalk the streets, preying upon the oblivious humans in their wake.

That's where Owen's job came in.

As an AVTech bounty hunter, he vowed to protect the innocent through the blood of their hunters. By then, blood was the only way. One that has escaped from the penitentiary can escape again, and that needed to be avoided at all costs.

At _all_ costs.

Owen's hand found his empty waist, of which, would have usually held his sword. It was in the room now, but it still paid tribute to all those that lost their lives to it.

The pile of names were endless, but they were all necessary,

For the good of man kind.

But, how could he tell the turtles? They were _just _learning about vampires. How could he tell them that there were good as well as evil vampires? And that it just so happened that one of those "evils" knew about them as well?

How?

Well the answer was easy…

He wouldn't.

At the prolonged pause both turtles watched him expectedly before Raph rolled his eyes.

"Well…?!"

Owen kept his cool.

"Well, what?"

Raph sighed heavily before opening his mouth to speak, but just as he did, he was cut off by something else. Leo entered the room, his eyes tired. Going to the fridge, he retrieved a bottle of water before turning around.

It was then he spotted Owen.

"Oh, hello. We have practice in a half an hour. You can watch if yo-" He was cut of by Owen's hand as he stood.

"That's won't be necessary, Leonardo, I was just leaving anyway. I will be fine in my room." And with that, he turned and left. Raph and Don's eyes met as the sound of Owen's door shutting echoed the underground lair.

__

'What was that about?'

Meanwhile, Leo shrugged before turning away, taking a sip of his water. Before it reached his mouth, he concluded. "Well, Don and Raph, we have practice, so hurry up and finish…" Leo eyed the now cold, half eaten slice of pizza on Don's plate. "Why are you guys eating pizza so early in the mor-Wait! Never mind. I don't want to know. Just hurry up." Leo was already in the hallway and making his way to the dojo when he finished. Don looked at his clock in surprise just as Mike walked in as well, whistling and making his way to the fridge.

Leo was right; it was almost time for practice.

Where did the time go?

Meanwhile, Raph stood and stretched. Don watched him in small wonder. Raph had been truly intrigued with Owen's lessons.

Truly intrigued.

It was enough to throw Donatello into a loop and to give him a new prospective in the mysteries of the brother, Raphael.

His eccentric love for "fantasy" being one of many.

However, not all of his brothers were as mysterious as this one.

"Hey! Who ate my pizza?! I was saving that for breakfast!"

Before Mikey could turn back around, Don quickly stuffed the rest in his mouth before placing the plate in the sink, joining Owen's. When Mike did catch his gaze, Donny quickly shrugged before stepping off into the direction of the dojo.

"Come on, Mikey! We've got practice."

He said just enough not to seem suspicious, but hid the pizza crust induced muffle as well. Mike nodded before shutting the fridge.

"Well, If I ever find out who ate my pizza, there will be repercus-" Raph stepped before Mikey, also making his way to the dojo, but was stopped in his tracks by Mike's next exclamation.

Mike's gaze went wide at the sight of Raph's saucy fingers.

"Raph, how could you?!"

-

Well, no cliffy, but this chapter was chocked full of info! Thought it might help at this point ;), More coming soon!


	3. Chapter Three

OK, Alright! Here we go!

Disclaimer:…yes…please?

Owen heaved a sigh as he shut the door behind himself, finally feeling at home in the dark loneliness of the room. It didn't matter where it was solitude was his home.

Always was, and he hoped always would be.

But, it seemed as though the turtles had a different idea.

Solitude was all he knew, but it looked as if he would know 'no solitude' pretty soon as well.

He walked over to his jacket, now, lifting the heavy material from off of the chair and desk.

He had been so rushed to get to sleep last night that he had forgotten to unpack.

He removed his bible and wooden cross from out of his coat pocket and placed them on the old wooden desk.

There, done.

The greenbacks, the lighter, and his IP could all stay in his coat, since that was where they would be of most use later on. All he needed out of it were the two remnants from his past, his fathers bible and the cross of his childhood, those two being of the most importance to him. Wherever those things were, there was 'home' as well.

He now looked around at his new surroundings, soaking it all in as his eyes traveled from one end of the room to the other, also remembering the rest of the lair as well.

It had surprised him that a place like this lair could be found in the sewers, as warm and as made out as it was. He had noticed that the entire lair itself put new meaning to the phrase 'one man's junk is another man's treasure.'

Except in this case, 'turtle.'

The whole lair was decked out in what could only be described as 'hand me downs' and 'thrift shop bargains.' The den occupied a single old and word couch, but repaired in such a way that it was still comfortable, and a single lazy boy, also repaired. The one and only television also took residence in their den. It was not very large, but it was large enough for Owen to wonder how long it took for them to get it down there. It was bulky, to say the least, and because of that bulk, it sat on the floor. He doubted if any of the desks in here would have been strong enough to support that weight anyways.

The only other room that he had been in, besides his room, was the kitchen, and that held his interest as well. A stove, a fridge, and a working microwave.

It already had his old place beat. Their kitchen was also adorned with cabinets, beautiful as well as useful. However, he could not over look the broken overhead cabinets next to the fridge. All of the other cabinets seemed in great condition, it was just those that were the exceptions. These ones' doors lay crooked and jarred, never to be able to close again.

He didn't know what could have cause that kind of damage to such solid wooden cabinets, but he knew that what ever did it was some _force_ indeed.

However, his room looked almost, _bare_, compared to the others he had seen. It was rather large, but empty. The likes of a single twin size bed occupied the corner while a single desk and chair served as a bed stand table. A single lamb completely the ensemble, which also completed the list of things in his room.

But that would due.

It was all he needed.

Besides, with all of this space, he could conduct practice of his own. Moving to the center of his room, he conducted his own stretches for the first time in two days.

* * *

Raph's _sais_ were two whirlwinds in his fists as his katas commenced.

However, his thoughts were…elsewhere.

His mind kept drifting back to what Owen had said.

"Yes, you guys have probably run into our kind at one time or another. But like you, we tend to stay to the shadows…"

The idea that he had probably run into a vampire or two in his day, obliviously or not,

Still left him unsettled. Ever since he was a little turtle, he always took joy in the supernatural and the unexplainable or uncanny. But now that some of those things that could not be real, were, he didn't know how to feel. Out of the corner of his eye, he could just see Donny as he went thought his own katas.

It all seemed somewhat surreal.

His brother was one of them. It made him feel rather weird…

Raph's motions were fluid and exact as he flowed through his own katas. However, suddenly he froze, his kata faltering as he finally recognized the nipping feeling in the back of his mind, it was envy.

He was jealous.

He double check, and yes, that was jealousy brewing within him.

Finally, he saw why.

It had been _him_ that believed in such things to begin with, not _Donny_. Don and the others would tease him if he had even _mentioned _anything about vampires when they were little, and it seemed unfair that now Donny grew up to be one.

However, Raph still could still see how the vampirism was a double-edged sword. At the new thought, his bout of jealousy dissolved. There was a lot of baggage with the package, the blood sucking being one of them. The great hunger being another.

Although, he would have to admit, the benefits still seemed pretty cool!

He remembered watching Donatello in that clearing. He was amazing; lighting fast in his speed, a mere blur to the eye. Very cool indeed!

But, he guessed it was all for the best. Besides, nothing could be done about it now. Well, nothing but the "lessons," although they did help the situation a great deal. With Owen's help and silent guidance, they all had survived the ordeal, his lesson benefiting Donatello as well as everyone else. They all had leaned during those lessons…they learned how to deal with Donatello's change. They learned how to accept it…

Raph smiled as he placed his sais in his belt.

Donny was a vampire, and that was ok. It was even better now that he had something to look forward too because of it.

Owen spoke something of the new lessons Donny would have. Different lessons…

And Raph wouldn't miss them for the world.

* * *

Owen kept his leg outstretched as he pivoted on his one foot. Slowly he turned, doing a complete three sixty until he ended up back where he started.

Bowing, he concluded the routine, beginning the new day as it should.

With a heavy sigh, he plopped down into the wooden chair, absently running a hand over the worn wood of the desk before him.

Today he would have to go out. Shopping was not something he particularly enjoyed, but he had to do what he had to do. He needed at least a few more pieces of clothing, if not, something. All of the clothing to his name now was currently on his back (which was not good). But, how would he go about doing it? If he were by himself, he would have just left. However, the thing was, now he was not alone…

When you live in Rome, you do as the Romans do.

This, he suspected, was no different. He knew from experience that these turtles had certain ways of going about certain things. He also knew that it would not be looked kindly upon if he just up and left without telling them either.

Therefore, that settled it.

He would have to ask, despite his pride.

He frowned.

He would ask him about it and suffer the pride bruising. He had to.

****

'Well, take it this way. They might know where to get good clothing. Hell, you haven't gone shopping since the eighties, and it shows!' He looked down at his clothing in defense. They weren't that bad. Hey, black was still in, wasn't it?

****

'Well, if that was black, it would be. To bad your washing machine made it something else.' He took a closer look and realized that the voice was right.

Well, off black was still in, wasn't it?…

He needed some new clothing, and bad. That was that. He would ask them and suffer the dent in his pride as he did.

Sometimes, he just had to do what he had to do. And this was one of those times.

-

Lol, once again. No big events, just life. Actually, this chapter in particular is not one of faves, but it will do. What do ya think? (Take all of these lax chapters well, for they won't be lax for very long!)

__


	4. Chapter Four

Disclaimer:…Don't own it.

Chapter Four

Centrice opened her eyes to the still and settling darkness. Listening quietly, she realized that she was alone. Donny had left. She yawned as she turned. The red numbers of the digital radio blared out at her from the darkness. She blinked, clearing the sleep away as she did.

It was seven thirty in the morning.

And if she remembered correctly, a half an hour after the turtle's morning practices.

Sighing, she sat up and stretched widely. Don had probably wanted her to sleep in, since the last few days she had been up at ungodly hours of the night with him just talking him through his restlessness. He must have figured that she could use the sleep now, and that was probably why he left her that morning. He left her so that she could sleep peacefully.

However, although it was a sweet gesture, she just couldn't comply.

She, like her other half, was never one to sit still. The only difference was that his restlessness was induced by the vampire blood within him, while hers…

Well, she guessed restlessness coursed through her blood as well; just a different kind of restlessness. She smiled, shuffling out of the covers and bed sheets that were Donatello's. She stood, and stretched, her mouth gaping into a wide yawn as she did. However, her nose quickly picked up on something that made her stop and sniff.

She grinned.

Mike was cooking.

He stomach grumbled at the thought of Mike's concoctions; always weird, but always delicious. Her stomach rumbled in agreement. Well, she might as well go join the others then, if they were having breakfast.

As she made her way to the door, a weary thought reminded her that their guest might be out there as well. She stopped.

'That's right! Owen might be out there. So, I can't go out there like this, can I?' She looked down at herself before straightening and running a hand through her hair.

The small tank top she wore hugged her a little…_too well_, while her hair screamed catastrophe. Her pajama pants seemed presentable, but she knew that the whole "just woke up" look would have to go!

She searched through her small suitcase of clothes before settling on a red tee-shirt and a pair of flare legged jeans. White socks as well as white sneakers soon found themselves in her arms as well as her toiletries and underwear as she quickly made her way to the door.

She would be making a trip to the bathroom before joining the boys.

She was the only female after all, and as such she had to at least be somewhat "presentable."

She opened the door, looking out and into the hallway for any trace of a soul. Finding none, she released the breath she didn't know she was holding. However, her eyes soon found something else that made her breath hitch in trepidation.

She eyed _his_ closed door wearily.

'Is he still in there?' If he was, he'd better stay in there!

She had to go to the bathroom.

Slowly, she tip toed across the hallway to the bathroom, making sure to avoid all of the creaking floor boards as she did. It would also be best not to give away her presence to the turtles in the kitchen. They would probably call her in there, if they did, and then she would probably be stuck between a hard place and a rock; if she joined them, her pride would be bruised by her faltering looks, and if she refused, she risked looking rude. Yes, it would be best if they didn't know she was up, not yet.

She sighed.

With a few last steps, the door of her sanctuary was finally before her. However, as her hand found the knob she couldn't help but overhear the others.

They talked now, or more like Mike sung now while Leo told him to shut up. She could hear Don chuckle at Leo's comment. It made her smile.

He had such a cute laugh.

She sighed before almost regretfully opening the door and stepping inside. She wanted to join them, but she knew she could not in fear that Owen would see her, as "indecent" as she was. Yes, she would join them later, after a good shower…

She eyed her hair in the mirror.

And a good combing.

'God, what a rat's nest!'

* * *

She stepped out of the steamy bathroom and into the fresh air of the lair, her mood chipper. That shower had felt good against her aching shoulders.

There was nothing like a nice warm long shower after a good sleep. She felt truly rejuvenated.

Rejuvenated and Clean.

The voices of the turtles flowed to her now, and at the sound of it, it seemed as though all four of them were now all bunched into the small kitchen. She smiled. With a skip in her step and a song in her heart, she allowed her self to join them in the kitchen at last.

However, as she was walked through the door, she literally ran into an out coming Donatello.

"Ooff!" She hit his chest, her soft body thumping lightly against his hard shell. It didn't hurt, but it did surprise her! She stumbled back, loosing her balance only to be grabbed by green muscular arms as he kept her vertigo with his strong but tender grip.

"Whoa!" His eyes widened as he caught her before looking down at her with worry. "Are you ok, Centrice? I wasn't looking where I was going." He apologized quickly while bending slightly to look her in the face. She almost smiled at how seriously he stared at her. He truly was worried.

Grinning, she waved him off.

"I'm fine, Donny! You just startled me is all, but I'm fine." She looked up at his as she attempted to reassure him with her words, but she could tell that her attempt failed. He still watched her with his big, emotional, brown eyes; the worry never leaving them as he did.

"Are you sure?"

She rolled her eyes before leaning forward, kissing him sweetly. Almost hesitantly, his eyes closed for the brief interlude, but it only lasted a moment. She pulled back, her eyes dancing with her good mood.

"Good morning Donny." She whispered before walking past him all together and entering the kitchen for the first time that morning.

She was immediately bombarded with greetings.

"Mornin' Centrice."

"Morning, did you have a good night sleep?"

"Hey! Cent-Piece! Try my newest creation! Oh, have a good sleep?"

All three of them watched her expectedly as she answered them all with practiced ease. "Morning, Raph. Morning, Leo. Morning, Mikey. Yes I did sleep well, thank you. What are you cooking?" Don smiled to himself as he watched Centrice handle his 'can be' overwhelming brothers with no more than a blink. Meanwhile, Mike now jumped in his excitement, of which, seemed to be triggered by Centrice's inquiry. Grinning like mad, he motioned her over before explaining his newest and greatest creation.

"See, since some one ate my _pizza_," He threw Raph a dirty glare. Raph's only response was a roll of his eyes. "I decided to make some of my own. I am happy to present to you…Pizza Waffles!" He lifted the rag that protected his creations with an emphasis that could be only described as a mad scientist as he unveiled his monster for the first time, which was not too far off. She eyes the monstrosities once before wrinkling her nose. They didn't look very good.

It seemed that instead of putting everything on top of the waffles, like she thought he would, Mikey put everything _in_ the waffles. Probably mixed it all into the batter.

Now with shades of red, white, yellow, and a few green specks, the waffles looked a little less then appetizing. However, as she frowned, Mike smiled, wafting them as he did.

"Don't they just look and smell delicious?!" He missed her frown and the other's faces as they too peaked around the two and into the food. Their reactions all but mirrored Centrice's, each of them having comments of their own as well.

"Yeah,…uh, delicious Mikey…"

"…Yummy…"

"Looks like crap!" All four of them turned, throwing looks at the turtle in red. His gaze reflected his uncaring as he shrugged before making his way to the table. Sitting, he waved them all over.

"Come on, before it gets cold."

They all sat, watching Mike as he energetically distributed his creations. Centrice's looked around the table before furrowing a brow.

"Where's Owen?"

All four of them looked up. They had nearly forgotten about him. Yes, someone should go get him for breakfast.

"Who's gonna get him?" Mike asked, his eyes traveling from one brother to the next before resting of Raph. At that, everyone else's gaze rested on Raph as well. Raph looked between them all before ruffling underneath their stairs. He crossed his arms.

"Well, I'm not going!" He stated defensively. After a moment of brewing anger, he threw an arm in Don's direction, shifting everyone's gaze from him to Don as he did. "You should get him Donny! He's your teacher!" Don looked up, startling at Raph's statement. He didn't want to get him, what if he was sleeping? Wasn't it bad to wake a sleeping vampire?

His mind seemed to roll its eyes.

****

'Aren't you a vampire too?'

He almost laughed out loud. Oh, yeah…

Meanwhile, Leo just watched them all before standing dejectedly.

"Well then, I guess that just leave me…" He stepped out from under the table before realizing that one of them was missing. "Hey, where's Centrice?"

Three heads turned to find an empty chair.

Meanwhile, Centrice made her way back down the hallway, her journey ending at the very last door. She would do it since nobody else wanted to. Besides, what were they scared of? He was just another guy.

****

'Yeah, a very powerful, blood sucking guy…'

She sighed, her hand lifting to knock to issue the call for breakfast, but she stopped, listening. Her curiosity got the best of her as she skipped knocking entirely and tested the door handle. It was unlocked.

Cracking the door open a jar, she looked in. The dark within contrasted greatly with the light of the hallways even though the small lamp was on, but when her eyes did adjust, she blinked. His back was to her as he was bent over something on the desk. He read from what looked like…a small bible?

She cleared her throat.

Owen blinked at his reading, not at all surprised at her sudden entry or the interruption.

"Yes…Centrice?" He didn't look up, but his brow furrowed anyway. Despite the obvious dislike for her, he felt wrong using her first name.

However, he still did not know her last.

He could easily find it out with a little bit of mental prodding, but he was against using his power for such trivial things. So, he just settled for her first, but it still felt weird.

Meanwhile, at her name, Centrice tensed before growing suddenly nervous. Her mind chided her. _'He's just a guy! Just some random guy.'_ However, now she wasn't so convinced. He was a vampire, a random vampire, and as such,

He was dangerous.

She swallowed before finally doing what she had come to do.

"Breakfast is ready, Mr. Cromwell. If you want to you can come eat with us, or I can bring your food in here..."

She watched as Owen seemed to absorb the information before turning back to what he had been reading. She almost took that as a 'no' to both, and went to step out of the room but before she could move he suddenly stood, leaving the black book on the old and worn desk as he did. He turned, looking her in the face for the first time that morning. She watched him, surprise taking its toll at his next words.

"Thank you. I think I will join you all for breakfast, I'm staving." And with that, he stepped forward. She almost didn't know what to do; she didn't think he would actually _accept_ the invitation to join them. She watched him measurably as he strode over to her. However, it was not until Owen motioned with his hand for her to head out, did she finally catch up to reality.

Owen Cromwell was joining them for breakfast.

-

Very cool! Took no time at all! R and R


	5. Chapter Five

Sorry this chapter took so "long," I had slight writer's block as to how I was going to get this all back into the story line (Despite how important this all _is _to the story line). But now it's all fixed and perfect. So Enjoy!

Disclaimer:…Tra la la la la! Nope, not today!

Chapter Five

Owen kept instep behind the girl before him, not really knowing what to expect. Yeah, he had been in the kitchen before, but this was different. He would be joining them for breakfast, which seemed simple enough, but in reality he didn't really know what that _meant_. A "normal" breakfast with four giant, humanoid turtles and a girl that just happened to be one of the turtle's girlfriends…wasn't "normal" at all.

****

'You're one to speak Mr. Creature of the night.'

He resisted the strong urge to roll his eyes at the sarcastic tone of his very own brain. The fact of the matter was, the thought of joining them for breakfast still made him feel all anxious and nervous despite his own…differences. He was not use to people, period, turtle or non-turtle. So, this whole thing was all new, which caused for a nervous vampire as a result.

Voices flowed from the nearby kitchen as they approached the opening. He eyed Centrice wearily and almost as a result, she turned back, throwing him a look. Before he could decipher what that look _meant,_ however, she disappeared from his sight and into the well lit kitchen facility.

He was supposed to follow her.

But would he?

His nerves told him no, he shouldn't. He should call her back, and request that the food be brought to his room, instead. But the rest of his being told him that he should join them.

If he didn't, he would be a coward.

And _he_ was no coward.

From the open archway he was just able to overhear one of the turtles as they addressed Centrice.

"Hey, is he with you?"

He took a breath, and released it as an attempt to calm his nerves before taking the liberty of finally stepping into the kitchen.

He was not at all surprised when all conversation ceased instantly.

As all of their gazes landed on him, he fought his nervousness and instinct while everything in his _being _told him to run.

But he knew better than to listen to it.

He was safe here. There was no need to be in "self preservation" mode, although he _was_ surrounded by four, giant, fighting turtles…and a human girl…

Almost as if on cue, she cleared her throat and at the foreign noise, all four gazes left him and turn to her. She smiled tautly at their blanks stares, while on the inside, she scolded them for their lack of manners. They should be saying 'hello,' not staring at him wide mouthed and gaping. She felt more like a kindergarten teacher, introducing a new student and prompting the other children to accept him.

And basically, that was what she was doing.

While trying to be discrete, but failing miserably, she motioned for them to continue, but also proceeded to fail miserably at that as well.

They just weren't getting it.

However, to both her and turtle's surprise, Owen suddenly spoke up, his own greeting beating all of them to the punch.

"Good morning, turtles." His voice was measured and even as he spoke. He definitely was nervous now, but he sure as hell would not show it. At his speech all four turtles seemed to snap out of whatever trance they were in before _finally _voicing their own greetings.

"Good Mornin'."

"Morning, Owen!"

"Good Morning, Owen."

"Morning..."

He released a breath he didn't know he was holding before allowing a small smile to cross his features. At his greeting, Don had pushed out a chair with his foot and now Owen took that chair, settling down between the familiar Donatello and the somber Raphael. Centrice, too, sat at that point, her place being between Don and Leo, respectively. She smiled, pleased that their guest had finally been welcomed that morning, properly and politely.

However, she soon found herself sighing as her mind concentrated on the more current issues…She eyed the food before her, wearily.

Now that was another battle entirely.

The breakfast pastries now sat in the middle of the table with a bottle of syrup to one side and plate of butter to the next. Centrice also noticed another bowl of food, eggs she didn't remember seeing Mike cook.

He must have whipped it up earlier.

Well, there they sat, its aroma mixing with that of the waffles. Centrice sniffed the air, and from where she sat, she could see that Owen did so as well.

…It did smell good, but as she looked around, it seemed that again, no one wanted to take the insinuative.

So, she did.

With no more than a blink she reached for the bowl of eggs. That seemed to trigger everyone else's reaction and appetite for they all, non-shamefully and purely, dug in. A hum of voices fell over the table as each person asked the others for one dish or the next. Centrice smiled as she alone passed the butter dish, the eggs and the syrup to one turtle or the next. However, the hum soon broke as Owen's voice rose over it. All persons hushed, at Owen inquiry, but he still had to repeat it since he had been too quiet the first time around to be heard.

"What?" Centrice as well as the rest of the turtles looked up and into the face of a furrow-browed Owen. He looked down at his "waffles" in mild confusion.

"What _is _this?" He pointed to the waffles as he spoke and then watched Centrice for the answer. His tone wasn't distasteful or anything of the sort, just purely curious. However, surprise took its toll as Centrice, instead of answering, turned to the one that they called Mikey.

Actually, all of the turtles turned to stare at the brother whose food was being questioned. After noticing their turned gazes, it was then that Owen finally realized what was going on.

'He…cooks?' He had naturally assumed that it was the girl that cooked. Naturally. However, as it turned out, he was wrong with his assumption once again.

Meanwhile, all of the turtles turned to Mike, smiling a little as they did. Under all their stairs he grew sheepish and rubbed his neck nervously before talking.

"Um…Sometimes I like to experiment, Try and make new things, ya know. So, today I made…" Some of the old excitement filled his voice at the thought of his creations having yet _another_ début. "Pizza Waffles!!!"

There was a pause after Mike finished before Owen tilted his head. The explanation had been less…than expected, but the enthusiasm was enough to consider the food, edible. Meanwhile, it seemed as though all of the tension at the table cracked at Mike's silliness for all of the other turtles soon found themselves snickering at both Mike's emphasis and at Owen's face. Centrice watched in utter amusement as they all cracked, one right after the other.

First it was Raph, a smile breaking past his usually stern features as he slowly shook his head in his hands. Leo and Don soon flowed as Leo grinned and Don chuckled lightheartedly. Centrice, too, smiled at their expression before looking back at the still quiet Owen.

Her eyes widened when she realized why he had been so quiet.

His head bowed, and his eyes closed, his lips moved as if he was talking before looking up completely and picking up his fork.

It left her stunned.

It was not as if something was wrong with praying before meals. Heck, it's a good practice to be performed…but that was not the problem in this case.

He was a vampire…Weren't they against all things like that? Weren't the cross and all things "holy" suppose to be his worst enemy, or something of the sort?

However, this vampire didn't seem to obey the "common rules," reading a bible and praying. It was enough to make her think…

Meanwhile, the turtles missed Owen's actions but all were drawn back to him at the sound of his fork lightly tapping against the plate before him. All of the turtles watched in complete and utter shock as Owen began to eat…_the waffles_!

Donny blinked before leaning over, patting the older vampire on the back as he did. Owen looked up and into Don's face as he chewed thoughtfully, catching his serous gaze.

"You have guts." Don stated with a nod before leaning back, his task complete. Two of the three other turtles also nodded solemnly in agreement as Mike huffed.

"Hey! You guy's always liked my cooking before!"

"Well, yeah Mikey," Raph looked down at the monster on his plate, "when the food didn't look like it was going to eat us!" Don, Raph, and even Leo, to some extent, snickered as Mike crossed his arms.

He was not amused.

He, at least, thought his cooking was good. Hell, what did they know?! They weren't master chefs like he was.

Besides, Owen seemed to like it.

He watched Owen as he ate, and was surprised when Owen suddenly looked up, meeting his gaze. Owen smiled reassuringly before leaning back, showing his empty plate for the first time. Mike smiled as well as he watched all of his teasing brothers sober up at the sight. Meanwhile, Centrice laughed lightly as everything played out before her.

"Can I have some more?" Owen asked simply, and when Centrice complied by passing him the plate of waffles, he nodded his thanks before taking two more. Mike grinned like mad before pointing towards the now engaged vampire.

"Ha! See! He likes it!"

"Ah! That's nothing! That guy 'll eat anything." Owen looked up at Raph's statement, not really sure how to take it. They really didn't know him, and Raph had only seen him eat only one other time since he's been there. However, at Raph's thumb in his direction and at the humored gaze Raph threw him as well, he knew Raph was just jesting. Owen sat up, a slow smile spreading across his features as the hidden humor made his eyes dance. It seemed only natural to play along. Meanwhile, he felt his nervousness die away to a pile of nothing as he spoke up.

"Oh, on the contrary Raph, I will eat anything…that's good." He threw Michelangelo a smile, and at the hidden compliment Mike beamed. Meanwhile, Leo looked at his own plate. It didn't look…_too_ bad.

And if Owen could eat it and not fall over, poisoned…

Leo took a bite, chewing thoughtfully. Everyone's gazes fell on him for it. After a long moment he finally nodded before taking another bite.

"Mmm, Mikey. This isn't half bad."

Now with two positive endorsements, Donny felt that it was proof enough, as he too began to eat.

"Hmm, not bad at all."

Centrice nodded, her own mouth full with Mike's food as well. Grinning contently, Mike's gaze went over the table before landing on Raph, of who still sat back, his plate full.

"Well, Raph. It seems as though the others agree with _me_." His arm swept over the table as he mentioned the others. "Besides, I thought you liked _pizza_, since you didn't seem to be able to keep your grubby hand off of _mine_ this morning." Raph threw him a look, but did not move, to pick up his fork, or to slug his brother. At the lack of reaction, Mike leaned on his hands, watching his brother in mock worry. "What's the matter Raph? I give you the permission to eat this, and you don't. Meanwhile, you eat things I _don't_ give you permission to, **_and_** you do it behind my back! What gives?!" Mike lifted his hands and shrugged in dramatized questioning as Raph finally picked up his fork. He had had enough. He would not win this battle and he knew it.

Yes, Mike was just that annoying.

So with a sigh and a glare in Mike's direction, he finally gave in.

"You're a loser, Mike." He growled before taking a bite.

'Hmm, Not bad…for a loser.'

* * *

Owen sighed as he placed the dish in the sink as it joined the various others plates in the cluster. He would have helped wash, but when he asked, the turtle in Orange told him not to worry about it.

Not being one to argue, he just shrugged.

He was still in the kitchen, him along with two of the four turtles. After breakfast, Raph had announced that he was going to go watch television in the other room while Centrice mentioned that she wanted to catch up on some of her reading. Donatello also left, stating that he, too, had to finish up something.

So that just left, Leo, Mike, and Owen.

Owen couldn't help but watch these two from his standing point next to the fridge. Leo sat at the table now, his head buried in the morning paper. Meanwhile, Mike washed the dishes of that morning, humming a little tune and dancing a little dance as he did.

Owen smiled.

That turtle, he proclaimed, seemed to be the most relaxed out of all of them, fun loving, for sure. Very opposite to the way Owen had to live his life, which made Michelangelo all the more interesting. The turtle now sang softly as he danced, and the fact that the other turtle in the room didn't even seem to notice was just all the more humorous.

This was nothing new, and it showed.

Owen opened the fridge and grabbed two packets of blood absently before closing it again. That had been what he had come to do in the first place, but he had gotten sidetracked with his observations of the turtles. The beeping of the microwave soon followed as he set the timer. The sound was just enough to break Leo's concentration.

Leo looked up just long enough to pick up on the setting around him.

Owen was leaned against the counter, his head bowed and his eyes closed as he waited for the blood warming within. Absently, Leo's eyes soon found his paper again just as the microwave beeped once more. Owen looked up, retrieving the packs before finally opening his mouth to question his thoughts of the past few minutes.

"Do you know where I can find Donatello, Leonardo?" Leo folded the corner of the newspaper down to address the inquiring vampire. While he answered, he eyed the blood packs wearily.

"Yeah, he would probably be in the lab." He stated absently while going back to his newspaper and turning the page. Thinking back, he didn't remember Donny getting his morning "drink" earlier. _And, _now that he thought about it, neither did Owen. Therefore, it was safe to assume that one of the packs Owen had warmed up and now held was for his brother, a.k.a. Owen's student and the other was for himself; which meant that Leo didn't have to be alarmed.

"Lab?" Owen tilted his head as a small frown found its way onto his features. _'They have a lab!?'_

"Yeah, down the hall. As soon as you reach your door, there's a door to your right. You can't miss it." Leo quieted then, his full attention going back to his paper.

Meanwhile, Owen took in the directions as he left to go find the hidden Donatello. He couldn't help but marvel at their lair as he did. It seemed so small, the Den leading right into their cozy kitchen, and then the hallways protruding from that. However, it was there that the coziness ended and that the rest of the lair began. There were a total of eight doorways in that hallway, only two of which he was familiar with, his room and the bathroom.

Other than that, he hadn't a clue.

He approached his door now, but stopped short, turning to his right as he had been told to. Faint sounds came from this door…faint_ tapping _sounds as if it was metal against metal. It soon became obvious that he had found the turtle he was in search for, however, his curiosity now grew all the more with the question of what, exactly, Donatello was up to.

With a breath Owen knocked quietly. After a moment he went to knock again when the tapping didn't cease, but a voice sounded out before he could.

"Come in! It's open." Definitely Donatello.

Owen fondled the blood packs in his hand, their warmth heating his palms. His nervousness came back full-fledged, and he scolded himself because of it.

'You have to get over your bloody anxiety and fast, before you put yourself into a coma.' He released the breath, willing his nervousness away. He was right, he need to get over this. He knew that it was not until he did get over it that his teaching would truly become effective, him actually being able to connect with his student the way he needed to for the next part of the lessons. Therefore, as a step forward in their teacher, student relationship and as a way to bridge the gape, Owen opened the door and stepped inside.

-

A/N: I just thought I should make this clear.

Owen has a social anxiety disorder, (If you want to put a name to it) that causes him to get all nervous and edgy around a group of people or in some cases, a single person he "cares" about. Many years alone can do that to someone. (It has some stuff to do with is history as well, but I can't get into that now, can I. ;D) Before, when he was at headquarters and such, the crowd didn't effect him much because they weren't all up close and personal (But when they were (A little bit with Katrina and such), Owen was just a itchin') Plus, it's more with groups of people than just one person (Hence he grew comfortable with the Old man, and with some extent, Katrina, but still is Nervous with all of the turtles). So, being in the lair and at close quarters with five other people, has him just a itchin' as well. (Well, every hero has a flaw…or two, and that is just another reason why Owen is the hero!) But as you can see, he is slowly getting past his anxieties…

-

Well, well, well. Wasn't expecting this turn of events (…much) but hey, it happened. Actually, it's better this way. It makes it all work out even better than expected. Yippie. So, anyhow, R and R, and I'll be coming out with new installments soon


	6. Chapter Six

OK, ready for more? Well, here it comes!

Disclaimer:…I do not own SpongeBob SquarePants in any of its forms, shapes, or sizes. All though I would love a pair of those nifty pants! ……………_Realizes what she said has nothing to do with the actual story_…ah well, better luck next time…

Chapter Nineteen

…(Just Kidding! )

Chapter Six (I've always wanted to do that!)

Owen stepped into the room, the tapping getting louder as he did.

He looked around the rather large, spacious room in search of that tapping, quickly finding its source.

Donatello was hammering something.

He watched the turtle's shell as he worked, his curiosity growing at the thought of what the turtle was up to. He remembered one of the other turtles saying that Donatello was the "brains" of the group, and now seemed that the accusation was true for his lab doubled as proof. Trinkets of metal, screws, random parts, and various tools were spewed around the messy room. However, there was order amongst the mess; a pile of motors there, a blob of wires here.

From experience with his own fondness of science and such, it made it obvious to him that this turtle was truly gifted.

His eyes fell back to the shell that faced him. Donatello still had neglected to turn around, and was still delicately hampering away at whatever he was doing. The warmth in Owen's palm then drew his attention back to the task at hand (no pun intended) and so, with the dignity of one scientist to another, he strode over the workbench, but stopped short at the incredible sight before him. He could see Don's hands now, and that made everything just that much more remarkable.

Donatello, not at all oblivious to the person standing behind him, continued to work as usual. He had one more little piece of wiring that needed connecting before he would even consider turning away. Meanwhile, Owen marveled at the delicate work this turtle was capable of as he connected one piece of wiring from one circuit board to another. Light tapping came from the tiny hammer Donatello used for the job, the handle of the small tool looking minuscule compared to the turtle's giant fingers. His greatest surprise was not in the fact that the turtle could do these kinds of things; Donatello was his student, after all, and Owen had realized quite early on that this turtle exhibited a moderately a powerful mind. No. It was in the fact that he was even _able_ to perform and do such delicate work, his giant two fingered hands being monsters compared to the infinitesimal board and to the little tools needed for the job. However, Donatello performed the tasks of putting the boards together with a practiced ease and precision that even had the vampire jealous of the turtle's obvious talent. Finally, the tapping stopped and Don sat up, rubbing the exposed bottom half of his face as he did. Owen waited for Don to turn around before addressing the turtle, but when Don finally did, Owen found that he could not get out a word.

All of his former deference for the turtle before broke as he almost fell over in laughter. He managed to contain himself and stayed standing, but he did laugh once before covering his mouth with the back of his hand.

The turtle eyed the older vampire in puzzlement as the face before him went from stern to humored to absolutely red before his very eyes. When he finally did manage to sober up, he was barely able to contain his smile as he finally addressed the turtle for the first time.

"Nice goggles."

His voice was even and somber but that soon broke as Don raised an eye ridge, his eyes going bigger than ever before. This time Owen couldn't help himself as laughed once more. Meanwhile, Don just watched the older vampire weirdly before blinking as the realization finally came as to what was actually going on.

It was the goggles…

The goggles he wore now were not normal goggles, but magnified goggles. It was so that Donny could see the very small components of the circuit boards and do the tiny work needed for them. However, the goggles also caused for the turtle's eyes to be absolutely _huge!_

He must have looked extremely ridiculous, if his look alone could cause the usually somber and serous vampire to pop a stitch with one glance in his direction. Now that vampire stood there, a hand over his mouth, his face bordering on bright red as he watched Donatello. His eyes danced with a humor and a light that Don had never seen in the vampire's eyes before.

Nevertheless, Don rolled his own.

"You're weird." He stated simply before taking off the source of Owen's hilarity. However, he couldn't help but smile as well. It was kind of relieving in a way. The old vampire wasn't as stiff and as…dry…as he once thought. Breakfast was enough proof of that, as well as a few moments ago. It was reassuring. Besides, Owen had been human once upon a time, even if he wasn't now, it still made interactions with him that much easier. He would have to admit, now that the vampire had moved into their house, he saw the guy in a light he would have never thought possible.

His smile widened. A deep friendship could grow from that light…

Owen quickly sobered as Don removed the goggles, but the small smile still remained on his face at the memory.

__

'You're being silly.'

His mind scolded him has if he was a child, but he ignored it as an adult.

It was weird.

To the outside world, he was just a child, no more that nineteen, but on the inside he had seen generations and generations pass by as a grown adult at heart.

Sometimes, it made him think…

However, this time, he didn't get to dwell on the thought for long for soon his palms called his attention back to the blood packs in his hands. They were cooling now.

And blood was just horrific when cold.

"Here." He placed the turtle's blood pack on the counter before taking his own and sitting himself next to the turtle on the bench. There was just enough room for him to put up a leg as well as he turned, eyeing the incomplete piece of machinery Donatello had been working on. He ripped open the blood packet with his teeth, and watched Donny do likewise. It was then and only then did Owen inquire on what he had been wanting to know for the past five minutes.

"What is this?" He asked in between sips of the cool blood in his hand. He frowned at the taste. He had waited too long, but it didn't matter now, did it?

At Owen's question Donatello looked up from his own packet of blood, his interest peaking at the mere fact that Owen had even been interested enough to ask, which was _way_ more than his bothers ever done. They would usually just dismiss Donny's inventions as just that, Donny's inventions. No questions, no comments, it was what Donny did, and that was all. Therefore, he mostly just ended up working alone, dismissed from the society that was his brothers. Sometimes, Centrice would try to grasp the concepts as well, but whenever that happened, she would soon get bored, but would be too polite to tell him. Nevertheless, he would usually catch the boredom on her face and body language as he spoke on and on about one aspect of science or another. When it got too much and it seemed as though Centrice couldn't handle anymore, he usually stopped himself and dismissed her, giving her one excuse or the other as to why she should just go to bed or do something that interests her, like her reading or something.

However, as he watched Owen, he could tell that this guy was just as intrigued as he would have been, looking into the various part of the small apparatus that was currently deemed his project.

Don smiled, beaming at the new opportunity to explain his work.

__

'Finally, some one who cares!'

"This is a project that I completed years ago, but I'm reconfiguring now. It's a telecommunications device we use to use when we were younger, otherwise known as the 'Turtle-com.'" Don smiled at the memory while Owen couldn't help but smile as well.

__

'Clever.'

On the outside, though he now moved to pick up the opened devise, but only after watching Donatello for permission. With Don's nod, Owen did pick it up and proceeded to studied it. Circuit boards as well as a vast amount of screws and such inhabited the inside, causing for the entire thing to shine with all of the silver within.

Impressive, very impressive.

Meanwhile, Donatello watched in anticipation as Owen examined his work. He felt…giddy…all of a sudden. He had never had anyone look over his projects before, and it excited him all the more. He watched Owen as he turned the apparatus in his hands, looking into the crevices that made up the inside.

"What does the top look like?" He asked suddenly, his eyes still on the inside of the machine. Quickly, Don then pointed to the plastic that sat next to Owen's right hand, and with that Owen picked it up. This time, he grinned.

__

'A turtle shell! How extremely clever!'

Slowly, he placed the top on, just to see what it looked like on the outside and grinned wider as a result. Most of the plastic was a 'shelly' yellow, while the shell that made up the microphone part of the device was a nice shade of 'turtle' green. The top piece and bottom piece fit together perfectly as well.

It would have been an understatement if he said he was _just _impressed. This kind of creativity could only be crafted by a genius. And to think, Donatello crafted this entire thing from _scratch_, **_and_** Donatello was only a child when he first made it…

Meanwhile, Don watched him, and smiled as Owen finally grinned, turning to the turtle as he did. He liked it. That much was obvious. But it was not until Owen actually voiced his praises did it send him reeling as well.

"This is very impressive, Donatello. _Very_ impressive."

Donatello beamed while Owen continued.

"But I am curious. You said that you were reconfiguring it now. What exactly are your plans, what do you wish to add?" At the inquiries Donny shrugged, his plans were noting major, but he voiced them anyways.

"Well, I was planning on making a tracking device for each of the "turtle-coms", in that a signal would be given off from each one individually only to be tracked by the others. The hard part is in trying to make each turtle-com receptive to the others, and vise versa, giving each person holding the turtle-com the ability to track the others down as well." Owen nodded as his eyebrows rose in understanding. That was a lot of work, screens would have to be added to each individual device plus the additions needed to activate the tracking ability, but he knew that Donatello was the turtle for the job.

"Well," He stated, delicately placing the mechanical work of art down onto the desk as he did, "I wish you the best of luck on your project." He stood then, suddenly remembering that he could not stay. He had a list of things to do today. However, at Owen sudden movements Donatello turned to him.

"Where are you going?" He asked just as Owen began to walk away, the empty packet in hand. However, at Don's inquiry, he stopped and turned back to look the turtle in the eye.

"I have a few things to take care of today." He stated simply before turning back around. At the statement the turtle thought for a moment before nodding in dismissal. Don was just on the verge of dejectedly going back to his work when Owen's voice sounded out once again.

"You wouldn't happen to know…any good…clothing stores, would you?"

Don nearly laughed out loud. How funny it sounded for that sentence to come from the lips of the vampire, but they did. He turned now, watching Owen's solemn but thoughtful face while thinking over the question. He, personally, didn't know anyplace good. Since they were…well, turtles…usually they didn't have to worry about clothing.

But when they did, there was one person, er turtle, that always took care of it.

Donatello grinned.

"Ask Mikey."

-

(A/N: Hey!….I just realized I never have April in my fics!…Well, personally, I kind of don't like her, and I guess it shows in my writing. Oh well…)

-

Lol, well. It was short, but sweet and too the point. But with all of these "just life" chapters I'm getting a little anxious for some action!…More comin' soon! R and R.


	7. Chapter Seven

Alright, here we go!

Disclaimer:

News reporter: VestqueX, I have heard than you have been arrested for assault charges. What do you have to say about that?

VestqueX: I TOLD you! I thought the police officer was a prostitute! _leans back, and crosses her arms while nodding smugly and dismissively_

News reporter:…

(Lol, Almost a Direct quote from the show 'The Simpsons'! Quite funny!)

…(Oh, and I don't own them either!) 0..o

Lol!

Chapter Seven

Mikey beamed as he grinned from ear to ear.

"Of course! I know a _great _place! Man Owen, it's a good thing you came to me, cause you're gonna be seriously stylish when I'm through with you! It's gonna be _sweet_!!"

Meanwhile, Owen and Don exchanged glances.

'Maybe this wasn't such a good idea…'

On the outside, though, both vampires just watched Michelangelo wearily as he grinned; his eyes (as well as his body) dancing at the thought of going topside. However, it was not until the happy turtle actually grabbed his coat did anyone say anything.

"Whoa, we're going now?" The perplexed tone in Owen's voice even suspired himself as both turtles turned to him. There was a moment of confusion before Mike finally blinked in understanding, slowly putting the coat down as he did.

It was still daylight out.

And daylight was bad for vampires…Well, at least human vampires.

Owen watched as both turtles seemed to nod in understanding.

He knew what they thought. They thought that he would not survive in the sunlight, which was somewhat true. The bright light of the sun just made him uncomfortable, it being so bright.

It made him feel uncovered, out in the open, exposed…

However, that wasn't the main problem. He could live with the feeling of being exposed along with the discomfort the sun usually gave his skin.

It was just…he didn't have his sports jacket, and if he wore his normal jacket up there, he probably would just get mistaken for some punker, which was just as undesirable. Therefore, going out after sunset would be the best for both reasons. At night, people tended not to pay that much attention to the people around them, which was good in his case. Plus, there usually were less people out at night anyways.

Though, he knew the turtles didn't know this.

They just thought that as a typical vampire he would vanish at any sign of sunlight. It was true that typical vampires did die with the overexposure of sunlight, but they had been wrong in their other assumption.

He wasn't a typical vampire…

"Ok, then, well…" Mike shifted from one foot to the other, not really knowing what else to say or do. Meanwhile, during their entire "conversation," Don spent the time thinking about what Owen had wanted, what Mike had inquired and Mike excitement in going topside.

It was weird.

No matter how old Mike got, he still got excited over going topside, which in itself wasn't the problem. The problem came when that "excitement" caused for another "in home accident," as he like to call them.

And Donny really didn't feel like fixing another game consol…or microwave…or coffee table.

"You know Mike," Don rubbed his chin thoughtfully, "If you started now and took the long way, you probably would be able to reach the shopping district by sunset."

Mike threw him a look. Leave it up to Don to make those kinds of calculations.

"Thanks for the tip, Mr. Science!" He rolled his eyes. Meanwhile, Don ignored his younger brother as his gaze went from him to his wrist watch.

He had to get back to work.

"I'm going back to the lab, if you guys don't mind going by yourselves." He didn't wait for an answer as he turned away; making is way back to the hallway and to his precious lab/haven. Unlike his younger brother, he'd rather spend his free time in the lab with his inventions rather than topside…unless it was in search of more lab equipment…

As Don walked away, Mike stared after him, the slow realization of what his statement _meant_ rolling over him like pizza dough. His eyes widened.

If Don left...it would just be him…and Owen…

"But, don't you want to go topside?!" His voice reflected that of anxiousness and slight panic as he called after his bother. Don did catch it, but chose to ignore it as he kept walking.

"No." Don waved a hand in dismissal. "You guys go ahead. Have fun! Knock yourselves out!" And with that Mike found himself suddenly alone.

Well, not alone.

He turned, throwing an unsure look to the vampire behind him.

"Well…we had better get started then, shouldn't we?…" Mike's voice was nothing like before as it went quiet, unsure. Very opposite to what Owen had heard earlier. Nevertheless, Owen watched this turtle thoughtfully before nodding and heading for the door.

"Yes, we should."

* * *

Owen sighed as they strode through the dark and dank tunnels. Water rushed from nearly beyond their hearing, but that was the only sound that occupied the air.

Well, that plus an over active turtle.

Michelangelo talked nonstop; his voice a little _too _cheery and a slight bit rushed, but it wouldn't have mattered anyways.

Owen wasn't listening.

Well, he did try! But, after a while, all of the words just ran one into another as Owen's surprisingly long attention span just 'spanned' to an end. Although his ears tuned out completely, he did stay relatively alert, his eyes searching the twisting tunnels before him before finally growing bored with that as well.

He tuned back into the turtle's ramblings in for a moment, not at all surprised to find that Mike was _still_ talking.

"Well, Owen, when you asked me if I knew any places, I was like, 'Whoa, dude! I sure do!' Now, my first thoughts, you know, when you asked me where to go, was to, like, take you to some place like "Bloomingdale's" or something…" Owen tuned out again, but this time, he settled for just watching the wonder next to him instead.

This Michelangelo, this 'Cooking' Michelangelo, had been one of the first ones out of all of the turtles to grab his attention in the beginning. However, back then, it had been for the wrong reasons.

He remembered shaking Mike's hand that first night of lessons, him being the first out of all of the turtles to 'shadow' their brother. To say that Mike was different back then would have been an understatement...

He remembered looking into the turtle's eyes at that moment, and seeing…pain.

Pain and sorrow.

It left the turtle's brown orbs dark and listless. It was a pain that Owen recognized, though. A pain that could only occur with the death of a loved one.

And if anyone knew about the death of loved ones, it was Owen.

However, just like in his own case, time was truly the healer of all wounds.

Now the turtle talked openly as they walked, a skip in his step, a song in his heart. A complete opposite to the turtle he had been. Nevertheless, Owen liked to think that this was the true Michelangelo, not that dreary sullen turtle he had first seen in Michelangelo.

But he couldn't help but wonder…what caused Mike's relapse in the first place? He knew it wasn't Donatello turning, that wasn't big enough for such a change in personality.

Yes, it had to have been something bigger…like the death of a father…

"Yup, your definitely gonna like this place, I'm almost sure of it!" Mike looked over to his companion, not at all surprised to find that the guy wasn't listening.

Yeah, he sometimes had that effect…Besides, even _he _was barely paying attention. His mouth moved, yes, but his mind was definitely elsewhere.

He was nervous, _very _nervous.

It would just be him and Owen.

Half of his anxiety came from the fact that he had no idea what to expect. It didn't seem like this guy had a lot of money, his old and ragged coat being enough proof of that. So, when Owen had mentioned going clothes shopping, part of him was even suspired that he could even _afford _to go shopping.

Meanwhile, the other half was just ecstatic about going topside.

Nevertheless, he was still excited about getting the vampire a new wardrobe. He looked over at guy now, the black on his body contrasting greatly to the paleness of his skin and hair…

It kind of reminded him of…

His thoughts got cut short as he grinned. Without warning, he grabbed the vampire by the arm and turned him in the other direction as he quickly picked up the pace.

"Whoa, wha-!"

Mike suddenly led him down a completely different tunnel as he broke out into a trot, dragging Owen along with him. When Owen finally found his footing, which didn't take too long, he pulled away from the turtle's grasp as he watched him for answers. Which also didn't take too long.

"I know the perfect place! It's this way!" Mike beamed. Bloomingdale's probably wasn't Owen's style.

But he knew what was…

* * *

Owen looked up at the store front in total distaste. The lights of the store's name flashed brightly in the dark of the night.

"'Punk 'n Goth!' But…I'm not punk!" He turned to the grinning turtle for some answers, but his only response was a raise of an eye ridge.

'Well, ya could have fooled me…'

Mike stepped up the store as he took the initiative. He opened the door, but soon found that Owen had neglected to join him. He turned in search of the vampire only to find him plastered to the same spot, his gaze up and on the store's front once again. His face reflected that of uncertainty.

Mike smiled. With years of practice and experience, he knew just what to do.

But would it work with Owen?…

"What's the matter?" Mike asked, his eye ridge wiggling at the question, "Ya, scared you might like it?" At that Owen stiffened, just as Mike hoped he would.

"No." He stated defiantly. He hated being challenged like that. Meanwhile, at Owen's assertion, Mike only shrugged. However, on the inside, he grinned. It was working…

"Well then, what's the problem?" Mike smiled as he saw the defiance and pride build in the guy before Owen walked up the store, joining him at the door. Mike opened the door wider and with an arm, motioned for Owen to go in first. And with no more than a look in the disguised turtle's direction, he did.

"There's no problem. No problem at all." He stated simply as he stepped inside.

Mike grinned.

That trick usually only worked with his brothers, but now he was glad to see that it worked with the newest addition to their home as well.

Being the youngest, it was only expected that he knew how to get his way.

"You sure showed me." He stated as his grin widened before walking inside himself.

To bad he perfected that talent a long time ago.

-

Lol, Punk! Lol! Well, anywho, the 'just life's' soon will be winding to a close, so enjoy it while you can, because after that, it's gonna just gonna be action action action!


	8. Chapter Eight

Cooler. More coming your way…right…now!

Disclaimer: The Ninja turtles are not mine! When Donny is, I'll be just fine! Though Mike, Raph and Leo are sublime. …I don't know how to finish this rhyme.

…TURTLE POWER!

Chapter Eight

Owen stepped into the store, blinking lightly as his eyes quickly adjusted to the weird lighting within. Red and blue as well as a few white light bulbs illumined the store as such, making everything seem extraordinary eerie. Black clothes occupied every shelf, line, and hanger as well as the bodies of the few individuals in there. Well, not every piece of clothing was black, but from where he was standing, it sure looked like it!

"Can I help you?"

Owen turned, and froze, his eyes widening as he beheld the most bizarre teenager he had ever seen in his long life.

Clad in complete and utter black, the teen looked up at him; the bright red contacts in his eyes making Owen grow uneasy under his gaze. Chains ran over the guy's chest, crisscrossing over the black spandex looking tee-shirt he wore before continuing down and over his body only to loop through the holes on the sides of guys long pant legs, (Which seemed to be the purpose of the holes, but he couldn't be too sure.) The chains then came back up individually, only to attach to the various belt loops on his waist.

Owen stared at him in complete shock. _'What…the hell?!'_

However, other "jewelry" also adorned the boy's body, each one more grotesque than the next. A red spiked choker inhabited his thin pale neck as well as both of his equally thin wrists. Owen also noticed the several looped earrings that ran up and down the boy's ears, the longest ones inhabiting the boy's earlobe as they just brushed his shoulders with the blood colored skull tipped ends. Just when Owen thought he couldn't handle anymore, he noticed another piece of jewelry which he didn't see until the boy spoke once again.

And it made his stomach churned because of it.

A crimson glass stud inhabited his mouth, poking through the hole _right in the middle of his tongue_!

He grimaced, staring at it in bewilderment. He couldn't help but wonder as to how the boy was even still able to _talk_ with that kind of monstrosity in his mouth. Nevertheless, the teen seemed to have no difficulty with his speech as he addressed him for a second time.

"Hey, dude. I said, can I help you?"

With complete distaste and appall, Owen then noticed the boy's nails and the black nail polish that inhabited them as well as the lip stick that also painted his lips black. However, the guise did not end there. To top it all off, the boy's hair seemed to defy all gravity and physics as it stood on end in all directions in six inched, red tipped spikes.

"Hey, dude? Can you…hear me?"

Owen was too stunned to speak and his face all but mirrored it.

Lucky for him, however, this time he didn't have to.

"N-No, I think we can find our way around, thanks." Mike stepped out from behind the gaping Owen as he gripped him by the arm to pull him away and deeper into the store. At Mike's response, the guy shrugged before turning back to finish his shelving.

"Well…you guys make sure to call me if you need anything. My name's Steve, by the way." He threw one last glance at the strange pair before disappearing into the backroom.

"Yeah, no problem." Mike responded nervously before turning back to the gaping Owen and almost laughing because of it. Even now Owen did not speak, but just stood there, the same expression of absolute shock and horror frozen onto his features as his eyes stayed glued to where the boy had disappeared.

Mike grinned.

However with the following moments, and no change in Owen's expression, Mike's grin faulted as he began to worry.

'What if he gets frozen like that?…'

"Owen?"

At his name, Owen turned to him, his mouth opening and closing a few times as his thought process began again after coming to that screeching halt the "boy" had brought about. Blinking, he addressed the turtle for the first time.

"Wh-…" He stopped, unable to get out anymore as his gaze fell back to the door where the _creature_ had disappeared into. "What the hell was that?!"

Mike nearly doubled over at Owen's obvious ambivalence and serous question.

"A punk." He answered simply, his grin brightening, before turning only to walk deeper into the weirdly lit store in dismissal.

"Here," He stated absently, the past confrontation all but forgotten, "Why don't you look for something you like and go try it on."

Owen blinked as another thought quickly came over him, filling him with heavy dread. Almost angrily, he crossed his arms as he stood his ground.

"Not if I'm gonna end up looking like _that!_"

Mike smiled a little at Owen's seriousness. Man, he needed to get with the times! With the way Owen was acting you would think he was born a thousand years ago or something…

"No, Owen. You don't have to look like that if you don't want to." Mike stated exasperatedly, as if he was reassuring a child. At Mike's "reassurance" Owen only huffed before slowly uncrossing his arms. "Good! Cause I _don't_ want to look like that." His gaze turned back to Michelangelo, of who seemed to not be listening anymore as he looked into the vast amount of clothing on the racks before him.

"No one said that you had to…" He stated absently before turning back, his arms full of black clothing. "Now, go and try these on." He shoved the bundle of clothing and hangers into Owens arms before shoving the entire mass, Owen and all, into the general direction of the dressing rooms. At the shove, his feet moved automatically as he absently tracked to the back of the store. As he went, though, Owen eyed some of the clothes in his hands with distaste. Upon reaching the changing rooms, he found an open one, but did not go inside as he grew nervous once again.

'Are you sure you want to do this?' He asked himself. However, he didn't get a chance to wait for an answer.

"Dude! Just get in there!"

At Mike's speech Owen startled from his thoughts. He turned just in time to catch Mike throw him a 'thumbs up.'

'Well, here goes.'

Owen turned back, the empty room looming out front of him. With one more sigh, more to calm his nerves than anything else, he stepped inside and shut the door behind him.

* * *

"Come on, Dude. It can't be that bad!" Mike huffed as he leaned against the wall next to the changing stall Owen was _still _in.

"Believe me, it is." Was Owen's response. Mike rolled his eyes.

"Look, let me be the judge of that, Ok! Now, _come out_!"

"Is there a problem?" Mike turned his head just in time to see Steve approach him, his chains rattling with each stride. Mike stayed there as he waited for the guy to finally make his way over before speaking; his voice exasperated with the impatience caused by the vampire within.

"Yeah, there's a problem. _He_ won't come out!" Mike threw a thumb over his shoulder and in the direction of the stall as Steve nodded knowledgably before making is way over to the locked door.

Meanwhile, Mike looked at his watch.

It was going on an hour since Owen had first stepped into that damn dressing room.

However, before he could completely get over his annoyance, soft knocking soon flowed to his ears as Steve gave it a try.

"Come on out. It can't be that bad." He coaxed softly. Meanwhile, Mike soured.

'That's what I said!'

From inside of the dressing room, Owen frowned.

This was all just _too_ foreign. He didn't want to come out, but it seemed that the longer he stayed in there the more they addressed him like some tempering _child, _which only added more to his embarrassment and discomfort.

He listened now as Steve knocked on the door, willing him to come out and because of it, he sighed, leaning against the door in defeat. There was no other way out, except for that one door…

To the surprise of both of them, the door clicked from the inside as it was _finally_ unlocked. At the heavenly sound Mike grinned.

He was finally coming out!

However, nothing could prepare him for what came next.

Owen stepped out of the changing stall and Michelangelo and Steve gasped in unison. Owen's shirt was the purest of black except for the icy blue Celtic cross on its front. The cross's sudden brightness seemed to make Owen's pale skin and hair stand out as well, giving them both a glow that would have never been there before. On his legs, Owen wore a pair of long black pants, not much different from that of Steve's. However, his pants, instead of loops going up its sides, had long, thin strips of thick cloth from his thighs that hung down and swayed as Owen walked. They also added color to the equally dark pants; each piece being the same icy blue as the cross on one side and black on the other.

Except for his frown, Owen looked awesome!

Both Mike and Steve stood frozen as Owen frowned heavily, watched them both for their reactions. When none came, he took it as such and turned back into the stall.

"See, I told you it was horrible."

However, Mike's voice soon broke the heavy silence, causing for Owen to turn back and for Steve to grin.

"No Dude! You look Totally _Awesome!"_ The turtle punched the air in emphasis before breaking into a wild and crazy grin. Steve, too, grinned, as he nodded in agreement.

"He's right! You look fucking sweet!"

At this Owen's frown lightened, but didn't let up. He couldn't help but be skeptical.

"But I feel ridiculous."

He truly did. The big pants he wore he was anything but use to, and he felt like a clown because of it. However, once again, Steve disagreed with his assumptions.

"But you looked totally incredible!"

Owen threw him another look as Steve sighed. Fine. He wanted proof…

"Here, if you don't believe me; there's the mirror." Steve motioned to the outside of the door where the full length mirror hung proudly. Owen blinked as he realized what that meant. Although the thought of seeing himself filled him with dread, he had to admit.

He was curious…

Both the smiling Steve and the grinning Michelangelo stepped back to give Owen room to shut the door as he looked into the full length mirror for the first time…and froze.

Owen stared into the mirror. A typical Twenty-first Century teenager stared back.

Behind him, both Steve and Mike waited as Owen looked in the mirror, but at the absence of a reaction, Mike lost his patience first.

"Well?" He prompted. At that Owen blinked as a slow smile spread over his lips.

"I like it." He stated simply before turning around. Mike beamed as Owen began to grin as well.

"See, dude! I _told_ you you would!"

Meanwhile, Steve grinned before turning to the smiling Owen.

"Do you want to try on anymore clothing, or is that it?"

At that Owen shook his head before motioning towards the changing room full of clothes. Mike's eyes widened as well as Steve's grin at Owen's next statement.

"No, that's ok, I've tried enough. I'll just take them all…"

* * *

"Dude, I don't believe you just bought them _all!_" Mike shuffled down the dark street, the bags in his hands making it just that much harder. Owen shrugged as he too, walked, his own backs making it rather difficult as well. He was now clad in his old clothes, for his other ones he was in had to be rung up at the front counter.

He still smiled anyways. He really did like his new clothes and he would have to thank Mike later for them.

However, because of that 'like,' both of them now struggled with two bags each, each one heavy with the dark material of his new clothes. Meanwhile, Mike sighed, but grinned nevertheless and the memory of a few moments ago. Earlier, Mike had assumed that Owen was poor; him having no home, no clothes, and barely any belongings. But now, he realized that he had been _dreadfully_ mistaken.

"Dude, where did you get all of that money?! You're, like, freaking rich!" At that Owen blinked slowly, thinking over what to tell the turtle.

He wasn't a lair. And he wouldn't start now. But if he did tell him what _exactly_ he did for a living he knew that the night would never end as question after question after question would flow from him and his brothers…

"Odd jobs." He stated simply. He prayed that that was enough. Heaven only knew how much of a bind he would be in if he had to say what those odd jobs _were. _However, Mike only nodded in acceptance as the manhole cover soon came up.

This was their stop.

Owen sighed in relief as Mike looked around, eyeing there surroundings. I would be best that no one saw them go into the sewers for that might lead to followers. However, there was one guy approaching them and for that Mike waited. The guy seemed sidetracked as he walked, but when he met eye contact with them, his eyes widened before as quickly turning the corner. Mike shrugged.

"Geez, what was his proble-?" He stopped when he finally caught sight of Owen as his eyes, too, grew wide at the sight of the man. However, his eyes soon grew distant and sidetracked as he absently shoved his bags into the turtle's hands before quickly walking off into the night.

"Mike, Can you take these back to the lair for me? I have…some things…to take care of."

"W-Wha-?!" Mike frowned as he fumbled in confusion as the sudden weight weighted his arms down heavily. He was barely able to get out his question as he struggled with the suddenly large mass of plastic and clothing in his arms.

"Where are you going?!" He asked into the night, his voice strained, as the distance between him and Owen grew considerably in his few moments of struggling. At the loud and panicky inquiry, Owen turned back, his own voice still distant...

"Just bring those back to the lair. I know the way back. I'll be by later." And with that Owen continued into the night, only to turn into the same alley he saw the guy turn into only moments ago.

Now suddenly alone, Mike analyzed the quickly changing situation. There he was, heavily laden with bags, and told to go back to the lair by the mysteriously disappearing vampire. However, with one more look in Owen's direction, he knew what he was _gonna_ do.

Quickly, he looked around for somewhere to stash the bags and settled for the thick bushes nearby. They would not been seen nor stolen here. Besides, he would come back for them later. It didn't take to long for them to disappear within the thistles of bush, and when they did, Mike stood, smiling slyly before walking in the direction he had seen Owen disappear into only moments before.

"He never said _when_ to bring them home…" He ginned as he disappeared into the night. Where Owen went wasn't even an issue as his ninja stealth and tracking soon lead him right to the vampire. In no time at all he soon found himself hot on Owen's trail as he watched the vampire from above.

He would be finding out what was going on, or his name wasn't Michelangelo, which it was.

-

Wow! This took no time at all! I think I may even be posting this today as well! Two chapters in one day! A record! (Btw, I feel the action revving up…I hope you're ready for it! :D) R and R.


	9. Chapter Nine

Disclaimer:…I am an Author! I'm not gon' give up, I'm not gon' stop! I'm gon' work harder! I am an Author! I am gon' make it. I am gon' write, and keep on just writin'! Auuuutthhhooorrrrr! _does vocal run like Beyonce, but it ends up sounding more like a cat getting beat with a baby _Ooooohhh yeahhhh! _bows_……(I don't own "Survivor" either, so _sings_ don't even try it!)

Chapter Nine

Owen's form was no more than a shadow against the darkness of the night as he moved with only the silent ease of an experienced vampire. He effortlessly tracked the guy down, his abilities with the _Plane_ making it that much easier as he disappeared and reappeared whenever the time arose. It was funny. He had been less than pleased and a little thrown off when thy guy suddenly just turned the corner. It all just seemed a little bit too…convenient…

Nevertheless, he was never one to argue with fate, especially when fate proved useful….

Timothy James Cummings

Born: September 2, 1974

POB: Springfield, Colorado

Height: 5'7"

Weight: 132 lbs

Eye Color: Brown

Hair Color: Blond

Is Charged for the Evasion of Arrest for his crimes against Humanities Rights Law #362

Owen grinned. He was never one to forget faces, especially when regarding bounties, but this guy's face, for one, was a hard one to forget. A rather large birthmark inhabited the left side of his face making him instantly recognizable. Starting from the center of his forehead, it crescented outwards and over the boy's left eye before dwindling to nothing as it curved back to meet the guy's mouth corner. To say that it made him stand out was an understatement if there ever was one. However, Owen couldn't help but wonder as to how he was able to evade the authorities when he sported such a clear identity marker.

'He must have been helped…but by whom?'

Suddenly, in the alley before him, the boy stopped, pausing as he looked around. Hissing lightly, Owen narrowly avoided being spotted as the boy turned to check his surroundings. Luckily, by the time the guy had turned in his direction, he was safely hidden amongst the shadows of the surrounding building. Nevertheless, he chided himself.

'Too close!'

Owen took this opportunity to finally look around at his surroundings as well. He couldn't help but grow puzzled as to why the guy had chosen to stop here, of all places. Garbage spewed the narrow alleyway, that and the nearby dumpster making the alleyway prudent with smells definitely _less _than pleasant. Owen couldn't help but feel the slightest bit nauseous (Not even the sewers smelt this bad…), but he knew he couldn't dwell on it now.

No, he had to focus on the question at hand.

'What is Thomas up to?'

His immediate mind told him to bust the guy now, claim the reward, and go back to the lair while Thomas was just a "sitting duck" open for the taking, but one more look at the guy and he decided against it. The boy was now leant against the nearby wall, his hands in his pockets, his eyes distant.

It was as if he was…waiting…but for what?

The thought of just taking the guy out never left his mind, though, but it subdued with yet the comings of another thought. This guy was small fry, compared to others. A mere two hundred dollars for his capture alone. That's right, _capture_. Dead, he wouldn't even be worth anything, which meant that this kid would have to be handled _differently _than the other bounties. His crime was that he had yet to serve his sentence in the Penitentiary, so _that_ was first priority. It was only if he resisted did things get messy…Especially since Owen didn't have his sword with him.

But was it worth it?

His mind told him no.

'Be patient. There is more here than meets the eye.'

Almost as if on cue, a pair of footsteps drew Owen from his thoughts, and with the looks of it, they also drew Thomas from his own thoughts as well. Almost immediately, Thomas stood, calling out and into the shadows in his excitement.

"Sly, what the hell took you so long?"

'Sly?' Owen grinned. Now things were getting interesting…

The figure stepped out of the shadows, his face being only a conformation to what Owen already knew.

Narck Sly

Born: July 3, 1956

POB: Munford, Tennessee

Height: 6'0"

Weight: 215 lbs

Eye Color: Green

Hair Color: Varies

Has Escaped from Vapanese Mental Penitentiary of Manhattan

'_Hm, another escape artist. He must be the one helping Thomas…'_

"Hey, I'm here, aren't I?"

The one otherwise known as Sly entered the alley then, the smile on his face speaking volumes about his confidence. Definitely bordering cocky…

Owen smiled. He would see how _cocky_ Sly was when he was through…

Sly's head alone was worth a whopping eight thousand dollars, which made Sly mighty desirable to _any_ bounty hunter, not to mention Owen.

If Owen wasn't grinning before, he was definitely grinning now.

Sly's cockiness would be his death sentence…

Owen moved to finally reveal himself from the shadows. His intent: to do what he did best, but once again, his mind held him back, scolding him for his lack of patience.

'There's more…just wait!"

Owen could help but admit a low growl at the thought of just 'waiting.' Definitely one of his weak points…but he would wait. His intuition was never wrong, and he could guess that this was one of those times he should listen to it, despite his indifference towards what it was telling him.

However, as his mind dwelled on what was going on before him, he all but missed the new feeling that melted into the back of his mind.

Little did he know, he was not the only one out spying that night.

He was being watched as well…

* * *

Michelangelo leaned down from his perch on the rooftop to get a better view into the alley below.

'What is he doin' down there?'

From where he was standing it didn't look like much. Owen hid in the shadows below while the guy he was "spying" on just…stood there…

Michelangelo frowned.

It had been so weird when Owen just…walked off…like that. His first thought had been that he had said something wrong, which saddened him.

And he had thought that they were getting along so well.

After coming out of the store, it was as if they were "friends," "comrades," "best buds," "Amigos" even. But then, Owen just went all cold on him, pushing him away as if he was just some annoyance. He had to admit…that had hurt.

However, it was not until Owen disappeared around that bend did Mikey finally understand what was _really _going on. It wasn't Mikey at all; he didn't say anything wrong. Owen just became…sidetracked…for a moment. It was as if he remembered he had something to do….and he knew that that something had to do with that guy as well…

Well, whatever it was, Mikey would get to the bottom of it. It was not as if he could just _leave_ Owen. He _was_ Owen's escort, after all, and for more reasons than one. Yeah, to help Owen find clothing. That was a given. And since Mike _was _the turtle with the most fashion sense, it had been bluntly obvious that he was the one to ask. But also, it was out of force of habit originating from one of Splinter's old rules. When they were younger, it was his rule that if they _had_ to leave the lair, they must do it in pairs. Safety in numbers; permanent back up, and such. However, nowadays, that rule was barely followed, the turtles being older, wiser, and more skilled. Nevertheless, it was still a good rule to fall back on, especially regarding the newest addition to their home…

And now, it seemed that the rule once again, proved useful. He would not leave Owen; it being his appointed duty to stay with the vampire. That was just the way things were, and had to be for their own protection.

At the new sounds Mike was roused from his thoughts as a new pair of footsteps echoed up to him from the alley below. He tensed, and he watched as Owen did so as well.

There was definitely something going on now, the boy below becoming instantly alert when joined by his larger companion. They exchanged a few words, none of which he could pick up on. However, Owen seemed to have no problem as he moved closer as if to listen, his eye widening slightly as he did.

Mike smiled at the sudden change of events.

He had a feeling that this new "adventure" was just about to get interesting…

* * *

Owen couldn't help but lean forward out of anticipation as their voices grew fainter and fainter with their now retreating forms.

"So, you do know where the meeting will be tomorrow?" The younger asked his elder, his hands in his pockets and his eyes to the ground as he did. Idly, he kicked at a pebble on the ground, feeling pleasure as it skidded from its state of rest. Meanwhile, with both of their backs to him now, Owen leapt from one shadow to the other as a way to get closer and to hear their now diminutive voices. It did helped some, the voices were now up a notch, but they still grew dimmer as the pair walked from the narrow alleyway. However, Owen couldn't help but dwell on the kid's question.

'Meeting?…'

"Of course I know where it is." The older one stated defensively. "The ol' Miller's place. Besides, I wouldn't miss it for the world."

The older man walked the alleyway in leisure, his hands up and behind his head. Not a care in the world this guy seemed to have. Meanwhile, the kid next to him seemed to be the exact opposite of his companion. His eyes searched the ground before him nervously, his hand always busy in his pockets, his feet always kicking at whatever's on the ground.

They did prove an odd pair…

"Yeah, they say it's the perfect place for real vamps like us. Not like those AVTech freaks! A real vampire drinks blood, all of the blood. Isn't that right, Sly?" The nervous Thomas looked up enthusiastically, watching the face of his laid-back friend, and at his gaze, the elder nodded.

"Right, Tommy. Right. That's why we have to go to this meeting. They say that somethin' _big_'s about to go down, and then everything's 'll change… and I'm gonna make sure that we're in the mix!" Owen could hear the grin and chuckle in the big man's voice as he attempted to move closer. He was almost on top of them now. He definitely could kill them both now if he wanted too, but he would not attack despite how angry their words had made him. He knew that now he could not, not with all of the information these two held alone. A meeting for all of the enemies of AVTech tomorrow night?

This was big.

And it was at the "ol' Miller's Place," whatever that meant. Meaning that it would be _there_ that everything would 'go down.'

He pursed his lips together, feeling them grow warm from the compressed blood within. It was his duty as a part of AVTech to protect the organization at all costs, it being one of the world's only boundary meant to keep vampires like _these_ at bay. Without AVTech, they would run ramped, probably sparking an international revolution, thus, endangering the entire human species. All from the downfall of AVTech.

Therefore, he knew he could not allow that.

And, he also knew, that he would also have be at this 'meeting'…

He just didn't know how he would pull it off.

But he had to, if only to find out if this was a true threat to the organization or not; if it was a true threat to mankind or not…

However, just as he moved to follow the pair out of the alley in hopes to hear more, his mind picked up on sometime that made him stop. It was a small prick to the back of his brain, but it was there, and it had been growing there for a while…

He was being watched…

* * *

Michelangelo began his little "spy" mission in the relative shadows provided by the rooftop, but with the lack of…anything!…he moved from them, not really paying them much mind anymore.

However, it soon proved to be a fatal mistake.

He watched Owen move from shadow to shadow below, visibly trailing the pair. He himself could not hear what they were saying, but it seem that Owen could, his eyes growing more and more anxious with every word. However, it was not until Owen froze did he soon realize that something was wrong.

And then it was not until Owen looked right up at him, did Mike receive the biggest heart attack of his life!

He hastily moved into the shadows as quickly as his ninjitsu-trained body would allow him, but his attempt soon proved futile.

Meanwhile, Owen cursed in a harsh whisper from the alley below.

Mikey gulped.

He had been seen.

'Well, better get this over with.'

He moved back to the edge of the building, peering into the alleyway as he did. He knew that the confrontation was inevitable now. He had been caught spying, which usually proved for hostile conversation, to say the least. However, as he peered into the alley, he soon realized that it was now empty…

Owen was nowhere to be seen.

'What?! Where'd he g-'

"And what the _hell_ do you think you're doing?!" Mike jumped; emitting a rather loud yelp before spinning on his heals, only to come face to face with an enraged Owen.

Uh, oh.

At first he had been too stunned to speak, but as soon as his voice came back the most he could do was state the first thing that came to mind.

"I got lost?…" He meekly asked rather than stated, his voice timidly higher than usual. Owen snarled, his eyes flaming up with an anger that left Mike frightened, despite his familiarity with the vampire. Within those few moments the space between their faces diminished to that of mere inches as Owen snarled again, sending shivers of fear down the turtle's spine as he did.

Brown orbs met black flames with just a hint of gold.

Owen's voice was like venom as he talked, his absolute anger with the turtle coming out in his spitted short speech as well.

"If only you were so lucky, turtle…"

-

Cooler, little cliffy. ('Bout time!) I had fun with this one. I hope you enjoyed it too! R and R.


	10. Chapter Ten

Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to the Ninja Turtles. Never have, Never will! _passes out from the shock of actually doing a REAL disclaimer!_

Chapter Ten

"If only you were so lucky, turtle!"

With Owen's face only inches from his own, Mike had to admit, he was intimidated. The guy was extremely tall despite his youthful looks (Six feet at least!), just the act of him bending over to glare flames into Mike's eyes was definitely enough to scare him speechless.

Which seemed to be the effect it was having right now.

He blinked from under Owen's unwavering glare, completely at loss on what to do next, or what might happen to him because of that loss. But one thing was certain...

He could very well die tonight.

Owen could kill him, instantly and effortlessly if he wanted to.

Well, actually, the chances that he would die tonight were in reality, very much uncertain. However, his time with the vampire had been short, not really giving Michelangelo the chance to learn how to read the one that stood before him now in absolute rage. Owen had just taken _so _negatively to Mike's actions…that now, Mike was truly at his mercy. He could die at this moment, and with the look the vampire before him was giving, he truly believed he would.

As Owen's ragged and infuriated breathing echoed in his ears, the fear in his throat rose as he gulped. Although he had not seen it personally, he had heard of what the being before him was capable of. And if any of it was true, his chances of surviving an attack from Owen were slim to nil, even with his displaced sword.

Owen could kill him with his bare hands if he wanted to.

But the question was, would he?

However, a nearby voice seemed to sound out as Owen went stiff. His glare wavered, but did not come back at hit's full intensity. Mike blinked, quickly picking up on Owen's change in intensity and demeanor. The sudden interruption had halted any possible interaction between Owen and Michelangelo, well at least for now.

And for that, Michelangelo was extremely grateful.

The fear stricken puddle that was Mike's brain also listened, it being the most he could do in fear that if he drew attention to himself (by _moving_) it would bring about instant death.

Obvious to all, Thomas spoke out in well-placed excitement.

"They say that the leader is a real powerful guy, one of the top vampires in the world."

Thomas's high but edgy voice floated up to them from the street below as both turtle and vampire listen, their confrontation melting away as the interest grown from Thomas's words flowed through them instead. Meanwhile, the elder, Sly, laughed, his walking relaxed and fluid as he made his way down the dark streets.

"That's not saying a lot, Kid! Rumors are rumors! They're not meant to be believed…"

"But it's true!" The kid insisted, his voice going high in his persistence. "They say he's really powerful. Heck, he might even be more powerful than _Owen Cromwell_!" At his name, Owen's head snapped to attention as he immediately dropped the icy glare. His legs moved automatically to the edge of the rooftop, but not before throwing Mike a look that all but voiced his unconcluded displeasure with the turtle. Meanwhile, Michelangelo released a breath he didn't know he was holding as Owen moved away from him and over to the edge of the rooftop. His mind had just began to unfreeze before finally realizing what the young vampire had stated below which only manage to send his mind back astray and into the mists of utter shock.

__

'They said Owen!…He famous?!'

His gaze immediately landed on the vampire's back, his eyes wide with the realization of it all.

Owen was famous, and he didn't tell them?

As he made is way over to the roof edge as well as he eyed his former fear instiller with suspicion.

__

'I wonder what other precious information he is holding from us…' Nevertheless, his gaze soon fell to the two below, now being enthralled with the entire thing. They continued walking, oblivious of the grave danger that loomed just above their heads.

As if in response to Thomas's statement, Sly snorted, emitting a short laugh that cut through the silent night like a knife through butter only to sober back up just as quickly. Thomas eyed his friend in annoyance, rather displeased that his statements had been quite the source of his friend's hilarity for he was not use to being laughed at. He found nothing amusing in the fact that one of their worst enemies was a bounty hunter who was one of the most powerful vampires in the world, and didn't know it.

And he had no qualms in voicing his opinion either.

"And what is it exactly that you find so funny, Sly?"

Thomas's voice was like ice as he addressed his friend, of whom he was less than pleased with. However, at the question, Sly grinned once again, remembering the humor in the boy's words as he did.

"Silly boy," He chided, his arms once again finding the back of his head as he fell into his usual unperturbed saunter. "You take rumors and lies and jumble them up into one big mess. When will you learn that you are not supposed to believe everything you hear?"

However, it seemed that the child was not convinced for he froze, stopping in his tracks. It took a moment for his companion to realize that he was no longer in step, but when he did, he slandered back, looking into the youth's face in mock apprehension.

"Wha'sa matter, Timmy? Did I hurt your feelings?"

Thomas (otherwise known as 'Timmy') spat his displeasure as he frowned. "Well then, what can we believe? Rumors and myth is all we have. If we don't have that, then we have _nothing_."

He kicked a pebble _hard_, sending it flying across the street. Thomas, as well as Sly, watched it sail, following it in its flight with their eyes until it's "thunk" of an end against the adjacent concrete wall. A silence fell over them as Sly grew serous, his true beliefs of life coming out in the form of an elder's wisdomed avowal.

"You believe what your _eyes_ tell you, not your ears or your hands. For us vampires, your _eye_s are the keys. Therefore, when I see it, I believe." Their walked resumed, Thomas listening carefully to his elder, his former displeasure forgotten. From above, their tracks were followed by both turtle and being as the pair below moved further and further away from the building. As they finally reached the end of the line, Owen stopped, listening for all he was worth. He all but ignored Michelangelo as he stepped up behind him, but he soon (unwisely) chose to make _himself_ known.

"No, that's not true, you can bel-"

Owen spun quickly, so quick that it in fact that Mike almost missed it visually as Owen hurriedly clamped his hand over the turtle's wide mouth (pun intended). Mike protested for a moment, but as he was hit with another one of Owen's glares, he soon fell silent. Owen's hand wasn't so bad compared to instant death…Besides, he had cheated death enough times tonight, he just didn't want to take anymore chances by crossing the vampire anymore time than necessary.

The last of the criminals' voices floated up at them before fading into the darkness.

"Like, take me for instance." The deep voice of the elder resonated the dark streets around them. "I don't believe anything unless I see it. Like, that bitch. Owen,"

Owen tensed, his hand unconsciously clamping tighter around the turtle's mouth. However, at his current state of suffocation, Mike clawed at Owen's offending hand, his breath coming out in short gasps or in no gasps at all. It earned him another glare from the vampire but the sweet rush of air that filled his lungs as Owen finally removed his hand was enough to make up for it. Meanwhile, below, they continued. Their voices getting fainter and fainter as they walked away.

"See, I've seen him. Scrawny, pale, little thing. Looks like he can barely hold up that sword he _claims _he made. 'Most Power Vampire?' Please!" He piffed.

"I can take him."

Mike's wide eyes flew to the still Owen, taking a step back as the words below chilled him. They would surely to enrage the vampire now, which sent yet another wave of panic up his spine as he grew increasingly worried for his own safety.

And as he thought it would be, the reaction from the vampire was instantaneous.

When Owen suddenly turned to him, he winced.

But when Owen smiled at him…

From below they continued, their voices almost nothing in the night air.

"But then again, this meeting does sound…promising. Tomorrow night, witching hour, I'll be there, just to check it out." And with that, their voices tampered out completely as the two disappeared into the night. The night fell still as a comfortable silence spread over the rooftop, both Michelangelo and Owen absorbing the vast amount information they had just overheard.

However, like in most cases, Michelangelo was the first to break the silence, his curiosity getting the better of him once more.

"When's witching hour?"

Owen turned, looking the turtle in the face. His intent had been to throw the most daggered glare of his life (It wasn't any of his business!), but when he did catch the turtle's gaze, he soon found that he just…couldn't. The turtle's eyes were wide with an innocence that could only be seen in a child as they flashed with a genuine bout of curiosity. Very far from the meddlesome Michelangelo he was angered at a few moments ago. It definitely caught Owen off guard, but he soon found himself allowing a small smile on his lips before growing serous again. He couldn't stay mad at him, but that didn't mean the turtle was completely off the hook. He still had questions, and Mike had better answer them, or else…

He chose to ignore Michelangelo's inquisition as he began to ask inquiries of his own.

"Why were you spying on me, Michelangelo? I thought I told you to go back to the lair?"

Mike blinked, as he suddenly found himself under interrogation. Although Owen didn't glare at him anymore (and for that, he was VERY thankful), his stillness still managed to leave Michelangelo uneasy, making him folly over his answer. What would he tell Owen, that wouldn't get him killed (or maimed at the very least)? However, as he racked his brain for a plausible response he only had one. The truth.

__

'So I guess that narrows down my options, eh?'

He took a measured breath before speaking, hoping that it wouldn't be his last.

"It is clan rule that a clan member (while journeying topside) is to be accompanied at all times by another clan member to ensure the safety of the first." He repeated Splinter's rule word for word as that was all his mind could grasp for the time being. However, when Owen's expression didn't change, he continued his explanation in hopes that if he did, the vampire would understand. "It's a rule from the old days. but it's a good rule. I was sent to stay with you, and that's what I came to do." Mike's voice held a definite edge to it as he went from almost timid to assured, his mission now out in the open.

On the inside, Owen smiled. The turtle wasn't as bad as he thought he was. Although his methods were…questionable…Mike was only following orders, probably just to ensure Owen's safety "topside" as they say. He watched Michelangelo now, his gaze imploring as he did a mental skim on the turtle before him. He found just enough to tell him that Mike was telling the truth before leaving the turtle's mind all together. He would not probe his mind anymore, and probably never would again, this event alone proving the turtle's trustworthiness (which was more he could say for most of the vampires and humans of this world, that was for sure.). A great attribute if there ever was one.

Meanwhile, oblivious to Owen's thoughts of praise, Mike watched in mild surprise as Owen's gaze when from stern to thoughtful. Such a big change in the vampire's mannerism managed to throw Mike off. However, at Owen's now retreating form, his mind was brought back to this world at the realization that Owen was leaving him. Confused and fearful, Mike stepped forward.

"No, don't leave…" He could never deal with the guilt if he knew that he was the one that drove their guest out of their home, but as Owen turned back, a look of puzzlement on his face, Mike soon realized that he had over-reacted.

"But don't we have to get back to the lair?"

There were two words there that put Mike at ease. "_We_," meaning more than one, and "_Lair_," meaning his home.

They were both going back home, and Mike couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief at his former silliness.

Owen wasn't leaving their home, which was good. He rather liked the guy, despite his ability to be…intimidating when he wanted to, (He definitely beat Raph in that factor. Even _he_ would shutter in relative fear at some of the looks/glares this guy could pull off…) But other than that, his overall personality was well versed in the humor department, but his obvious wisdom was also something that added to the guy's cool character, almost giving him a '_Splinteresque_' type personality as well. At the thought of the old and beloved rat, Mike couldn't help but smile as the familiar pang of guilt and hurt lessoned with one more thought.

Splinter would have liked him too.

Mike grinned before joining the waiting vampire, of who now stood at the edge of the rooftop. Meeting his eyes, Mike nodded once before jumping down to the street below as Owen did the same, following the turtle's example. There was comfortable silence as Mike took the lead, walking back into the direction he remembered coming from. It would have been easier if he didn't leave the clothes behind, there being a manhole cover right in the alley they were in. But, they had to track back. Otherwise, he knew Owen would be none too pleased…

He looked over at the vampire now, of whom had fallen instep behind the turtle. Usually he would have inquired as to where they were going, since he was pretty sure Owen didn't know about his 'hidden' clothes. But instead, Owen's gaze stayed down, his eyes distant as they walked. Mike couldn't help but interrupt.

"You're thinking' about what those guys said, aren't you?" At Mike's inquisitive but quiet voice, Owen jarred softly from his thoughts.

He frowned.

Mike wasn't even supposed to hear any of that, but he did. His plan of keeping everything quiet was unraveling at the edges and he knew it.

Well, as his motto went, Owen was never a liar and he wouldn't begin today (_yadda yadda yadda._)

"Yes" he stated truthfully. He had been thinking about what the vampires had said regarding their 'meeting.' He knew he had to be there, he just didn't know how he would go about doing it. He would have to be in disguise, and somehow be _so _disguised, in fact, that he would not be recognizable, not even in the least.

It would be quite a task to pull of, but he had too, for the good of AVTech and human kind.

"Something like that." He added as well.

They approached their destination now, the familiar manhole cover nearly below them. Owen moved to open it, but ended up raising an eyebrow instead as Mike walked past him and to the bushes beyond.

__

'What is he doing?' He barely had time to think the question over before Mike answered it for him, removing Owen's clothing from those very same bushes.

Owen frowned, the pieces finally coming together.

"You hid them there? What if they were stolen?!"

Mike shrugged, but grinned nevertheless at Owen's exaggeration. He could tell that Owen wasn't (_Mad) _mad but still…

"Hey, what's the problem buddy? _You_ didn't see them, and you're a _vampire_!" Mike grinned as he retrieved the clothes, handing Owen two of the four heavy bags once again. Owen rolled his eyes, but couldn't help but smile as well.

Michelangelo was quite the character, quite a character indeed.

A slight rustling brought him back to reality as Mike struggled between the bags and the manhole cover. Owen smiled, feeling slight pity for the turtle that just couldn't seem to do anything right at the moment as he moved both of his own bags to one hand. While Mike lifted from one side of the manhole, Owen lifted the other. Between the two of them and the four bags, the manhole soon fell away, the mouth of their journey opening as it did. Owen couldn't help but catch Mike's captivated gaze before Mike grinned and just dropped into the newly opened hole. Owen smiled at the turtle's antics.

__

'Yes, Quite the character…'

Owen stared after Mike before descending as well, placing the bags down and just using the ladder (like a sane person). Finally stationary on the ladder, he reached back up to retrieve one bag at a time. He couldn't help but smile as he remembered his new clothes. He really did like them.

When he looked in the mirror at the store he couldn't help but be taken back.

He looked completely _different_

It was almost as if he was a new person altoget…

Owen stopped in his tracks as a new epiphany raced over him, almost causing him to lose his gripping on the ladder rungs. Thankfully, he held tight and managed to reach the bottom intact, but nevertheless, his mind raced as the puzzle pieces finally fell together.

He would be able to go to the meeting after all, and now he knew just how he was going to pull it off…

Mike noticed Owen sudden change in demeanor and look after him, his brows creasing as he watched him curiously.

"Owen?"

Owen grinned at his name, instantly holding up one of the heavy bags in his pale fist as he looked Mike in the eye.

"You know, theses," He motioned towards the swinging plastic bag of clothes, "might be the answer to all of my problems… And I have you to thank for that Michelangelo. Thank you."

Mike blinked, not really used to Owen holding up bags of clothes and thanking him for them. Many questions sprung into his mind then, a few of them questioning the vampire's sanity at that moment, but he dismissed them.

He really didn't want to know.

Instead, he gave Owen a look before responding.

"You're welcome? I guess…"

-

Lol! Hope you enjoyed it, (cause I know I did) More coming soon. Meanwhile, you know what to do ;) (R and R)


	11. Chapter Eleven

Disclaimer: This madness of a disclaimer will end in 3…2…1…-_beep_-

Chapter Eleven

Leo paced the small space of their den as he muttered quietly and heatedly to himself. _'Where are they?!'_

Only an hour ago he had come out of the dojo, leaving Raphael to finish practicing his own katas only to find out from the lab-ridden turtle that Michelangelo had left the lair hours ago. That in itself, though, wasn't really a problem; Mike was always known for journeying topside in the middle of the day every once in a while, his never-ending energy always giving him itchy feet. That, also, was ok, taken that Michelangelo was careful. With their adulthood also came responsibility and trust, _trusting_ that they were _responsible _enough to remember their teachings.

However, Leo knew that out of all of the turtles, Michelangelo was the most responsible with that sort of thing, him knowing full well that the welfare of his family and himself all but depended on it. Mike knew were to go and where not to go, what he could do, and what he could not do. Therefore, Leo knew he didn't have to worry about his orange clad brother (much) when he journeyed to the world above.

Besides, Michelangelo never failed to bring back something useful from his "topside" adventures. (And ten chances to one, that something was covered in ten cheeses)

But now, this time, it was different.

He was out with Owen.

They barely knew the guy, and already Mike was dragging him out and about. That, too, wasn't really the problem, although Mike and Don _should_ have asked him if it was ok before allowing Mike to take their guest topside. But once again, Mike knew where to go and not to go. He could be trusted with Owen.

No, that wasn't the problem.

The problem was in the fact that they had left _eight hours _ago, it being (roughly) four thirty at the time.

Leo looked at the den's clock.

It was a quarter after midnight.

__

'What's keeping them?!'

He couldn't help but grow more and more anxious with every second that past, his jaw line working as he gnawed on his already tender gum. Centrice and Don watched from the relative safety of the couch as Leo grew tense, his muscles twitching as his brow furrowed. Leo was mad, that much was obvious as his long rope of patience seemed to ravel thin with the turtle in orange. And as a result, both girl and turtle sighed, knowing full and well what was to come next. Sometimes, Leo was just _so_ predictable…

"Where the _hell_ are they?!"

As if on cue, Leo's voice boomed from the relative silence of the den. Don tensed, and likewise, he felt Centrice do so as well. She sat in her arms now, also watching the pacing turtle with relative silence. However, at her silence, it was easy to tell that her mind currently move no less than a mile a minute. It was just in her nature.

She was a thinker, like him. That was probably one of the reasons why they had hit it off so well, and so quickly too.

Don sighed and Centrice did the same. Leo had good cause to worry. Heck, even they were worried. Mike had been gone for a very, very long time, the chances of Michelangelo actually being in danger getting higher and higher with each passing second. But the question was, would he able to get out of it?…

Leo's voice once again drew them from their thoughts, and at the same time, it drew Centrice from her perch on Don's lap.

"I'm going out there! Mike's probably in trouble!" Leo's hand found the hilt of his Katana as he headed for the door. However, another hand, this time pale and feminine, stopped his hand in its tracks.

"No, Leo. Wait!" Centrice's voice was anything but firm, but her stance made up for what her voice lacked. Her body taunt, a hand on Leo's sword hilt as well, she stopped the turtle as he hastily made his way to the door. Don blinked, barely remembering Centrice even getting up, not to mention get over there, but there she was…

Leo, too, blinked, his confusion growing like the vines on a tree of anger as a cold worry set in once again.

"But Centrice, what if Mike's in trouble? What if he needs our help? We can't just leave hi-"

"I don't think he's in trouble, Leo…" Once again, her voice was faint against that of the booming Leo, but it did get his attention. Don looked up also, not really sure as to what Centrice was getting at, and with one look in Leo's direction, he could tell that Leo wasn't either. Meanwhile, Centrice sighed, bringing her hand back down and to her side as she did. She knew she was being irrational, but…the feeling that Mike was ok was too strong to be ignored.

Now all she had to do was explain herself…_without_ sounding crazy. (Easier said than done…)

"I don't think Mike's in trouble."

She repeated herself, this time making sure that her voice was as definite as she felt it needed to be. However, that definition seemed to have no effect on the turtles before her; both of them still sporting unsure looks. Centrice sighed; she hoped she wouldn't have to explain more but she could tell they had trouble just taking her word for it. And as she suspected, Leo wasted no time in his protest.

"But, what if-"

"Mike's fine, I just know he is, Leo. Besides, if he wasn't, wouldn't he have contacted you by now through that mind link you all seem to share?!"

Leo blinked.

She did have a point.

Master Splinter had trained them in many aspects of Ninjitsu, their mind link being one of them. As brothers, Master Splinter explained that they all already shared a telekinetic bond, although weak. However, through years of training, that bond had been all but enhanced, it now being at the point that one turtle could specifically tell what the other one is feeling, without even being in the same _room_.

Meaning that if Michelangelo was in any sort of panic or disarray, Leo, Raph, and Don would have felt it _immediately_.

Leo watched Centrice carefully now, eyeing the determination on her usually passive face. He could tell that she felt that she knew what she was doing, but was that enough to allow himself to trust her on this one? Meanwhile, Centrice watched as Leo seemed to look her over, his eyes reading her face like he always did when he was trying to figure her out.

And as _she _always did, she let him.

After a moment of silence, of which did not go unnoticed by the still Donatello, of whom still resided on the old and worn couch, Leo finally sighed, removing his hand from his sword hilt, the fight leaving him with Centrice's words.

"I hope your right about this Centrice, for Mike's sake and for your own…" His eyes flashed dangerously then, which also did not go unnoticed by the passive turtle on the couch.

Nor by the one Leo was directing it to.

Centrice blinked at the obvious edge in Leo's demeanor. Although, now she couldn't help but wonder as to how _similar_ Raph and Leo truly were (Even if they would never admit it).

Meanwhile, Leo continued, feeling that he had gotten his point across well enough, for both Centrice's and Don's eyes widened slightly at his former statement. "But, if you feel that Mike is ok, I'll take your word for it…"

That sounded so weird coming from his own lips, but he let his uneasiness slide. 'Taking someone's word for it' was definitely an action he was not familiar with and a statement he was he was not very familiar with saying. Therefore, the next part of his statement all but voiced his over all opinions on the matter, as it should have from the beginning.

"But,"

He let his gaze fall over both Centrice and the placid Donatello, hinting that they both should listen up. "If he isn't home in a half an hour, I will go searching, no matter wha-" Leo's blatant statement was all but cut off by a rather loud knock on their metal door. Leo froze, as well as the still Donatello as Centrice's gaze when from fearful to almost smug, a smirk forming her lips.

__

'You were saying?' Her eyes seemed to say. However, on the outside, she said nothing as the soft taping of her feet filled the silent room as she swiftly made her way to the metal door. At the last second she turned back, observing yet another presence, this time, entering the den from the Dojo. Raph joined them at the sound of the knocking, making the den's 'worried turtle' count, 'three,' instead of the previous 'two.'

She almost smiled. She knew he was worried but he just that he had a different way of showing it. Instead of dwelling silently, like her lover, Donatello, or drilling holes into the floor boards by pacing like his brother, Leonardo, Raph took to practicing in his solitude when it came to him being upset. But she could tell he was probably just as worried and anxious as his brother Leo, which only made her smile wider.

If only they knew how similar they were…

Hastily, she continued the short walk to the door, making sure to keep her step in check, not wanting to give away the true anxiousness in her heart to the turtles in the room. If they knew she was worried, her last few statements would have been deemed a lie, if even _she_ wasn't sure over her own thoughts. Nevertheless, her mind chanted, it being all she could do with the anxiousness beating un-rhythmically in her heart.

__

'Please be Mike, please be Mike…'

She didn't want to think what would happen if it wasn't, but as soon as the door was opened, an overwhelming sense of relief washed over her, and with a sigh from the rest of the room, she could tell that it washed over the rest of the turtles as well.

Centrice opened the door only to be nose to beak with a smiling, beaming (formally missing) turtle in orange. In his hands, two bags stuffed to the brim with clothing…

"Hey, Cent-Piece! What's hangin'? Man, did you guys cook? I'm starved!" In his usually 'Michelangelo' manner, he greeted Centrice before side-stepping her completely and stepping into the den. He stopped, though, when he noticed the none-too-pleased stares resonating from his brothers' eyes as well as sensing their extreme displeasure, the aura in the room seemingly going icy cold as a result.

If he had radar, it would be going off.

Something was definitely up.

"Um?" He eyed his brothers wearily; their displeased stares only succeeding making the room colder, resonating in an aura that was…less than pleasant. For once, he almost didn't know what to say.

Nevertheless, that silent spell was short lived, just like everything else that had to do with Michelangelo as he stated the first thing that came to mind...

"Uh, I take it there's no food?"

It was all he could come up with, although he had a feeling his mild humor would not sit well with his now displeased brothers. Actually, now he could almost _sense_ the Anger-o-Meter going to critical as they all seemed to grow madder with each second.

But none more than the usual hothead, Raphael.

"By the time we're finished with you, food will be the _last_ thing on your mind…"

No sooner had Raph finished his death threat did Leo speak up, his voice volumes louder than his red clad brother's only because of the fact that Raph had growled out his death sentence while Leo just settled for yelling.

"Mikey! Where the hell have you been?! We've been worried sick! I was this close to go looking for your sorry ass, Mike! This close!" He motioned with his first finger and thumb as his hand shook in suppressed anger. He watched Mike now, his eyes narrowing at the child like innocence the twenty two year old still seemed to sport even after all of these years.

Leo knew that look and he knew it well.

Mike knew he was in deep, which wasn't a lie in the slightest.

Yeah, they were all older now, wiser, and more skilled, but with the current passing of Splinter, everyone had grown apprehensive when it came to going topside. And then, with the turning of Donatello in that fatal incident topside, the turtles had almost completely severed themselves from the above world, their lives having been riddled with one tragedy after the next. Donatello was lucky that his encounter had not proved fatal, although his life would never be the same because of it.

But now, with the near disappearance of Mikey, they had feared another tragedy, automatically assuming the worse when he had failed to come home. If it wasn't for Centrice, all of them would have followed Leo in his search, tearing up the streets for their younger brother. Meanwhile, he and Owen would have just moseyed on home, only to come back to an empty lair.

And to be in for the surprise of his life the next morning when the turtle's came home in absolute rage. Yes, if it was not for Centrice, Mike would have been in boiling water, instead of just hot.

Meanwhile, Owen watched from the background as Mikey fumbled for words. He had to do _something._ Still standing in the dank sewer, he hadn't even gotten the chance to walk _in _yet for as soon as the door was opened, Mike had been bombarded by the voices within. At first, Owen had been slightly intimidated and thrown back, not really knowing why they were all so apprehensive all of a sudden. However, after a few moments of listening unnoticed from the sewers, Owen finally figured out why they were so damn mad, and he was just as displeased with his findings.

Mainly because it was his fault.

__

"Mikey! Where the hell have you been?! We've been worried sick!" Leo's words left a pang of guilt in his throat. It had been _his_ fault they stayed out so late, not the turtle's. Mike did nothing wrong. If anything, Michelangelo was completely right in his actions, following "order" to a tee. But did _they_ know that?

Leo's next words all but proved to Owen that they didn't.

__

"Well, what do you have to say for yourself, Mikey?"

If Mike wasn't stumbling before, he sure was stumbling now.

"I, er…I-I-"

He had nothing; nothing at all. It seemed that no matter how hard he tried, he just could not get out a sentence, not even a phrase, defending his innocence. However, thankfully, it seemed as though this was one of the few times he didn't have too.

"It's not Michelangelo's fault, it's mine. I got…caught up…at the last minute. " Owen almost cringed as he stepped out from behind the flustered turtle, catching each of their gazes for the first time. He knew his statement would not be enough to side step the barrage of questions he knew would follow. Nevertheless, he knew this was how it had to be, Mike's innocence being at stake.

Meanwhile, Leo blinked. To say that he was thrown off would have been an understatement. Owen's words just didn't make any sense.

"What?"

Owen sighed at Leo's prompt, looking around. Genuinely confused gazes met his own, the brown eyes of the turtles and the green eyes of the girl all but voicing their uncertainties with the new bit of information.

He sighed, closing his eyes.

He couldn't blame them, but he did know what would help them understand. He had to tell them…he had to tell them everything. Then and only then could they finally understand all that was going on. Not to get him wrong, he definitely didn't want too tell them. Actually, telling them such things should have been avoided at all costs, which he had been trying to do. But at the same time, his 'avoidance' also seemed to land Michelangelo into quite a bit of trouble.

__

"At all costs."

Those had been his thoughts, but now, he didn't know if it was worth it. Mainly, the term "at all costs" was only pertaining to himself, but now it seemed that only thinking of himself dragged someone else into the issue as well…an innocent…a friend…

He couldn't just let Michelangelo go down without putting up some kind of defense. It was his fault, and his alone, _not _Michelangelo's. Therefore, _he _should take the blame for his actions, and not the orange clad turtle.

Knowing what he had to do, he took a few calming breaths before beginning.

"It's all kind of hard to explain. It's rather a long story…"

Owen grew uneasy as he watched each turtle as well as girl give him a look. That didn't surprise him, he knew he had seemed rather…secretive…since coming, but now he was ready to tell them all, the good and the bad. Besides, what he was about to spill would affect Donatello as well, him also being a 'Creature of the Night.' Owen had tried to shield him from its true dangers of what they were, but he knew he could do so no more. Now was the time for him to completely come clean.

If not for the good of Donny, then for the good of them all.

Meanwhile, Leo sat, his curiosity at the vampire's explanation over riding his previous anger. Whatever Owen had to say, it sounded as if it was important…Leo almost smiled. Owen had been acting a little …standoffish… before, almost as if he was hiding something. Well, now, it seemed as though a few of his unasked questions were finally about to be answered, and none too late either.

"Well, we have time…"

Owen seemed accept Leo's answer, nodding as he sighed. He grew nervous, which failed to go unnoticed by the others in his room as Owen motioned for them all to sit. They obeyed; Don and Mike taking a place on either side of their brother Leo as Raph took a perch on the back of the same couch. Centrice choose Splinter's armchair, falling into it politely as her attention never left the now pacing vampire before her. He seemed edgy, nervous; very uncharacteristic for the usually calm and cool blood drinker.

Well, now that she thought about it…not really.

She could recall other times he seemed this uneasy, one of those times being only that morning. At breakfast, when he had first walked in, Centrice couldn't help but notice his uneasiness, but it passed by so quickly she had almost missed it as Owen finally walked in. It didn't pass nearly quick enough for it to go unnoted, though.

However, she didn't get a chance to dwell on the new thoughts as Owen suddenly spoke, his pacing ceasing as he looked into the new crowd that was now fashioned around him.

"I really don't know where to start."

His eyes went pleading as his heart raced. He really didn't want to do this. However, a new prompt, this time for the girl in the chair, told him that he had to, if he wanted to or not.

"Start at the beginning." She pressed, trying to encourage him any way should could. She, too, was curious, now that it seemed that what he had to say was the same thing that was making so uneasy. It only added to her growing curiosity; what could it be? However, when he finally did answer, it didn't seem to help. If anything, it only added one more inquiry to her every growing list of questions.

"Well, it all started with an organization called AVTech…"

-

Lol, Yay! Finally finished! Sorry it took so darn long, just been busy, busy, busy! But I promise I will never make you guys wait like that again! (Lol, it's only been like five days, I know, but I hate keeping people waiting) So, more coming soon! I guarantee it! R and R in the meantime!


	12. Chapter Twelve

Well, lets just get this party started!

Disclaimer: Hm…fishes go pook, pook, pook! (All for you Ani!)

Chapter Twelve

"AVTech?"

Centrice couldn't help but repeat the funny sounding word, seemingly tasting it on her tongue as the awkward sounds rolled over her lips. Meanwhile, Don and Raph perked up at the familiar term, as if having heard it before. Well, in reality, they had, a little less than twenty four hours before, actually.

At the recognition, Don couldn't help but add his own two cent.

"Your headquarters, right? You said it stood for…Advanced…Vampiric Technical."

Owen nodded; smiling at Don's obvious enthusiasm as he visibly remembered their previous conversation. Owen also couldn't help but throw a knowledgeable glance to the only other turtle that paid witness to that same conversation.

And in response, Raphael nodded back, his eyes knowledgeable as well.

They remembered, but nevertheless, he would still have to explain it all from the beginning as the rest of them still watched him questionably.

Well, _most _of them still watched him.

Leonardo, however, instead of watching Owen, watched the newly spoken Donatello, his mind in slight turmoil.

__

'How did he know that?…'

They must have talked about it earlier, him and Owen. That was the only way Don could have known such details, which in itself, did not sit well with Leonardo. He wasn't used to not knowing all that he could about a subject, but with this new character, Owen, he didn't, which left him…unsettled. It wouldn't have been so bad, since Donny _is_ Owen student, if he was the only on that knew something…

But with one look at Raphael, it seemed as though that hope could be grounded. Raph knew something as well.

They all must have talked before, possibly late last night or something. However, he didn't get to dwell on the thought for long. Owen's deep tenor of a voice soon resonated in the den once more, cutting off his thought process all together.

Besides, he could just ask his brothers later…

Owen continued, oblivious, (well, not really) to the secretly skeptical thoughts of Leo's mind.

"Yes, it is my headquarters, as well as the headquarters of all vampires in this part of New York. However, it _is_ more than that…" He trailed off, looking each turtle (plus girl) in the eye as he explained.

Now, this was the part he really didn't want to tell, and had no more than expertly avoided in his first conversation with the turtles the night before. However, he knew now that it was no use. The beans just had to be spilled…

"It's more than that." He sighed.

__

'Here goes.'

"AVTech was first made in the turn of the century as a small cooperation, meaning to organize the vampires of these parts and all over the world. But now, it's a world wide corporation, set for the protection of the human race." He watched as their gazes grew thoughtful, and frowned. Their gazes wouldn't be thoughtful for long.

It would get worse.

"Most vampires cooperated with the new companies and as a result, they sprung up faster than ever. They offered protection of values as well as a unifying bond for all vampires with the same beliefs. That being something that most vampires could not resist, most signed up very willingly. However…"

He turned then, looking Donatello right in the eye. If anyone needed to know this, it was him.

"Not all vampires share the same views."

At this Michelangelo blinked, the pieces slowly falling together as he remembered his time up on the roof top with the vampire before him. The vampires' words from below still ran though his mind, completing the picture Owen was now trying to make.

"They drink blood, all of the blood, leaving the person for dead. They don't even care that they are killing off humans. It's nothing to them. Well, it's more of a game than anything else. A sick…twisted…game…" Michelangelo's quite but somber (almost haunted) voice rolled over the ears of all those in the room as he trailed off, also earning him a look from Leonardo. Actually, it earned him a look from everyone, except for Owen, who just nodded in response.

It seemed that his private times with the turtles were paying off. They all learned from him, which had been his intent in the first place. They had to learn, they had to if only to understand what he (and now their brother), truly were. Owen nodded, another smile at his silent accomplishment spreading across his lips.

His only regret was that it had all happened so fast. He had only arrived twenty four hours ago, and already he found himself spilling it all. The turtle's had been too smart, too smart to not know, to not find out/figure out all that they could through his actions and words.

Nevertheless, he continued.

There was no stopping now, even if the time was too short.

This just had to be done.

Meanwhile, Leo couldn't help but feel a bit left out. He seemed to be the only one that was not in the loop when it came to Owen.

Well, him and Centrice.

He caught her gaze then, the look of absolute cluelessness etched all over her features, just as he thought it was etched on his.

At least he wasn't the only one totally clueless.

"Yes, Michelangelo, you are correct in your explanation. They kill unmercifully, or at least they would if it wasn't for AVTech." Owen now felt that he had their all full attention and was driven to continue because of it. "It was AVTech that made it law not to murder or take the life of that of a human."

"But how? Aren't vampires like, immortal? It's not like you can just throw them in jail for life…" Centrice trailed off, the look Owen suddenly threw her making her uneasy. Owen inwardly frowned.

__

'I was getting to that.'

"Well, yes. It is hard, but we have found…ways…for dealing with the situation." His new statement seemed to perk the interests of at least one turtle. Raph looked up from his perch on the couch. While listening, he had crossed his arm, but now, they uncrossed as he spoke, his voice quite and curious.

"Ways like what?"

Owen turned to the turtle in Red, a genuine smile spreading on his lips despite his disposition.

Raphael. The curious one. The intrigued one. The jealous one…

Although, he would never admit it.

"Well," He thought about the turtle's question. What would be the best way to go about answering it? "We have ways of…containment…that seems to work. The insolent vampires, would by law, serve time for their transgressions against humanity and vampirism alike."

He stopped, sighing. Now, the other hard part. He would have to explain his role in the whole thing, and effectively, make or break his relationship with the turtles, specifically, his student. He turned to Donatello now, seemingly looking the quiet turtle in the eye, not at all surprised to find understanding and curiosity there.

His first friend, this turtle was.

He just hoped what he was about to say next wouldn't steal that friendship away.

Well, here goes.

"You se-"

"How do you guys keep them there…their, like, Vampires for cryps sake! I would think that they wouldn't just sit still and be imprisoned like that!" Centrice's all but annoying voice cut though his speech, causing him to throw yet another glare in her direction. Thankfully, she piped down.

__

'If she would just shut up and listen, I would get to all of that!'

Now, with the room quiet once again, he took a breath to calm his spastic, bordering on angry, nerves before continuing.

"We have…methods…around that as well, Centrice." He let his hard gaze linger on her for a moment before allowing it to soften and scan the other faces as well. "There are consequences for escapees that are most undesirable."

"Like what?"

Raphael. His inquisitiveness never-ending.

"Well, those that escaped are then considered bounty heads…"

Leo peak up, his interest rising at the new term.

__

'Bounty? But that means…'

"Vampires have bounty hunters?" Leo blinked, stunned. It almost seemed…barbaric…in nature, one person hunting another just for the reward of money, but it seemed all in good cause, the hunted being a great threat to society.

However, his mind still wasn't made up, but policing was policing, and that was just one of its forms.

Meanwhile, Owen blinked. Leo had sounded almost…surprised.

"Yes, Leonardo. We do have bounty hunters, but not in the same sense as humans..."

This all but piped Doantello's curiosity. Well, it had been peaked the whole time, but now, he actually felt the need to ask a question. An important question.

"Well then, how do your bounty hunters work?"

Owen turned his gaze to Donatello once more, locking eyes with his student. His friend.

He sighed. Here comes the hard part.

"Well, since vampires are mostly immortal, hence, they live for a very long time, it can only be expected that once they learn how to escape from the correctional institutions, they will never forget how; meaning, that if we were to put them back in there, they would only escape again. That is where the bounty hunters come in. Once free, the vampires must be hunted down and…eradicated."

All of them blinked, except for Donny, of who frowned deeply.

"Do you mean the bounty hunters kill them instead of just capturing them?" If Donny's frown could get any deeper, it did, as Owen nodded.

"Yes, they must, for the good of our organization and of humans alike."

Meanwhile, Mike sat in silent contemplation. All of this was sounding strangely familiar…

__

'Vampire Bounty hunters? Hunters of bounty heads…' Once again his mind couldn't help but go back to the scene in the alleyway. Those two guys talking…

Bounty heads.

And Owen?

"You're a bounty hunter, aren't you?"

Michelangelo's quite but serous voice all but broke the silence as well as Owen's thoughts. He nearly gaped. Out of all of the turtles, he would have thought that it would have been Leonardo to guess what he was, but Mike? He didn't seem as though he was that observant in that sense, but despite his thoughts, Michelangelo put two and two together. And now, because of it, everyone watched him evenly, their apprehensiveness rising according as they waited for an answer.

Sometimes the truth can be your guide to freedom. However, other times, it can just as easily be your downfall.

"Yes. Yes I am. Bu-" He was cut off as the world beneath him disintegrated. In a movement too fast for the others to catch, but not nearly fast enough for Owen to miss, Leo was up and at his throat in microseconds. Owen sighed, allowing himself to get smashed to the wall, Leo's arm pinned against his throat. Absently, he felt his feet leave the ground as he was lifted, his form dangling. His back stung at the impact before melting away into nothing as whatever flesh that was damaged during the attack, healed itself.

Owen blinked.

He could have easily avoided it. Heck, he could kill the turtle with a blink if wanted too, or make him go insane.

But that wouldn't look good on his already poor resume, would it?

So instead, he allowed what was happening to happen, if only to show that he wasn't as violent as once thought. However, it seemed as though his attempts at nonviolence would be proven futile. Leonardo's mind all but screamed that out at him, and as such, hearing the enraged turtle's thoughts could not be avoided.

However, nothing could have prepared Owen for what he heard there in Leo's mind.

__

'He's here to kill Donny, probably just for money! Well, not if I can help it! No one threatens my brother's life, **no one**!"

On the outside, Leonardo snarled.

Owen blinked, suddenly realizing why he was so abruptly pinned against the concrete wall by an angry turtle.

'_Well, that sure does explain a lot, doesn't it?'_

To say that Leo's assumption had been wrong would have been the understatement of the year. He didn't want to hurt Donatello, _not at all_. But would Leo understand that?

With one more look in Leo's direction, Owen slumped in his arms in near defeat.

All arrows pointed to no.

However, this time it seemed as though he didn't have to come to his own defense. Another voice rung out in the now silent room. A savior of sorts.

"Leo, let him go."

It was Donatello.

-

Lol! Yay, a Cliffy! R and R and keep posted!


	13. Chapter Thirteen

Ok, ready for more?

Disclaimer: Ooo, cha la la, Ooo Ooo cha la la la la! Don't own Ninja Turtles!

Chapter Thirteen

Owen blinked from Leo's dangling grasp as he watched Donatello walk up to his brother. There was an exchange, a look of sorts between him and his brother, but in the end Leo nodded and released his death grip in the vampire.

At the sudden freedom, Owen fell gracefully to his feet as Leo stepped back. Nevertheless, although he was free, he still felt that he was on trial, all of them hitting him with equally hard glares.

Well, all except for Donatello.

He watched him now, his eyes steady, but soft, speaking volumes as to his true feelings on the matter.

Other than that, the rest of the room was silent.

"I am not here to kill you Donatello. Really, I am not."

Owen felt the sudden need to finally come to his own defenses, feeling the need to plead his case to the jury that was made up of what he would have considered to be his 'friends'.

And as a response, Donatello nodded knowledgably before allowing a small smiling to grace his face. Although the smile was not as bright as his others (as it didn't involve his eyes like they usually do) it did give Owen a little bit of reassurance.

Donatello believed him, and that was enough.

* * *

They sat in silence now, the sight '_tink tink' _of metal against metal sounding out in volumes beyond it's natural state, brought on by the lack of any other sound. 

Owen watched Donatello's back, his shell moving slightly as his hands worked diligently. He was still working on that project from before, he noticed absently. However, that in itself wasn't unusually. In the few hours Owen had spent underground, Owen had quickly picked up on the fact that this lab was a haven, of sorts, for his student. That also in itself wasn't bad; actually it sort of reminded him of himself.

When he was "living" he, too, had a haven for himself; the old cluttered room in the back of their house doubling as his office and his haven. And like this turtle, he spent many a night in there, working, tinkering the nights away with some new theory or project.

They really did have a lot in common, this turtle and him.

However, he didn't get a chance to dwell on it, for soon another thought bombarded his consciousness, a thought that had been inking at him ever since they left the den, a question that just wouldn't stop bugging him until it was asked.

But the answer would decipher just how similar they truly were, and for that, it was worth it.

"Donatello?"

Owen's voice was quiet against the backdrop of soundlessness and as a result, the tinkering stopped.

"Yes."

Monotone.

Owen recognized it immediately.

'Maybe I shouldn't ask...' He question himself, but his immediate mind told him no. He needed to know, this was important, not only to Donatello's lessons, but to Owen's understanding of the entire turtle clan.

"Earlier, when Leo pinned me to the wall, did you hear him...say anything?"

If he wasn't the one speaking, he would have rolled his eyes at how dumb he sounded. Nevertheless, although ill-worded, the question was still valuable, its answer determining what their 'lessons' would be on for the next few days.

However, just like the entire situation, Don's answer was a little less than...expected.

"Look, Owen. I…" Donatello paused then, his hands seeming stopping as he sighed before picking up right where he left off. "I sorry Leo attacked you, it's just…" At his next hesitation Donatello sighed again, this time placing the metal pieces down completely. And this time, he did not pick them back up.

It was quite obvious he would not be getting any work done anyways.

So instead, he turned, looking Owen in the face for the first time. What awaited him there in the vampire's face wasn't very surprising and was more or less expected.

Patience.

Tranquility.

Wisdom.

Curiosity.

And…something else…

He didn't give himself a chance to decipher what it was exactly for he soon continued, basically running on nerves alone as he let it all come out.

"It's not your fault, it's just that he- no, _we_ can't help but be a little skeptical as to _why_ you're helping us-I mean, me…" Don concluded, frowning lightly. He didn't know if that explanation helped, and as a result he almost confused himself. Therefore he really didn't expect Owen to be set straight with the "explanation" either. Looking up into Owen face, he found that his assumptions had been correct. There was a tally in his mind as he added 'Confusion' to the ever growing list of things read on Owen.

Meanwhile, Owen furrowed his brow, his head tilting slightly as he thought over what Donatello had just mentioned.

'What do my methods for being here have to do with anything?'

"Donatello, I am sorry. But, I don't understand…"

Donny sighed at Owen obvious befuddlement before turning back, his fiddling continuing as he picked up the abandoned metal/circuitry combination. Absently, and with a tiredness he just couldn't shake, he tried again, this time keeping his eyes on his work rather than on the vampire he was talking to.

It was easier that way.

"Owen, why did you put it upon yourself to rescue me…in the beginning I mean?"

Owen couldn't help but be completely thrown off. Out of all the things he was expecting Donatello to ask, that was not one of them.

"Wh-what?"

At Owen's all but expected exclamation, Donatello rolled his eyes, but never let them leave his work as he continued, his words short and accusative despite his attempts to keep it neutral.

"This is New York, Owen, not some fairytale. Don't get me wrong, we all are grateful that you did, but just…why?"

Owen was baffled. All he could do with himself was stare at the turtle's back, the turtle that was his student…

And come up with nothing.

Why did he help?

The most he could do was state the first thing that popped into his head, which just happened to be the truth.

"Because, it was the right thing to do…"

Donatello looked up then, turning to look the vampire come teacher in the eye. Was he serious?

The look Owen gave him told him that he was.

"Well, then I guess you're not like most people, then." He turned back dismissively, seemingly ending the conversation, his hands finding his work once more. He couldn't help but feel a pang as the familiar feelings of the loneliness and weariness for humans that originated from their childhood resurfaced in his heart. They had to be…careful, in the old times and the new.

The fact that they were scientifically…valuable…made them forever vulnerable, it was just something they could never avoid, dodge, or ignore. One could not be too careful when it came to a free life (in the sewers) or a life of imprisonment (either in a lab or in a zoo.)

But would Owen understand?

It seemed the answer to that question was also 'no' as Owen spoke up now, all but ignoring Donatello's attempt to end the conversation.

"Not like most people? What do you mean?"

He hated sounding and feeling so thick, but it couldn't be avoided. For once, he just didn't understand. However, the last questions seemed to all but grate even more on Donatello's last nerve…and it showed.

Don stopped now, turning around for what seemed like the umpteenth time that night to look Owen in the eye once again.

Well, if he wanted the entire truth, the he would get it, and lots of it.

"Well, you see, Owen, in this day and age, one does not do something for someone else unless it's for some type of reward. What's _your_ reward Owen?"

To say he was taken back would have been an understatement.

He knew his answer to the question, although he would never say it out loud in fear of sounding corny, but it was his answer nevertheless.

'A friendship.'

However, at Owen's silence, Donatello took it as such.

"Just as I thought. Most people would have a secret motive. Most people would want something in return, and Most people would have taken advantaged."

"But I am not most people, Donatello." Owen cut in, his voice hard with offence as he finally realized what Donatello was getting at. They thought that he had wanted something in return for his help, and in Leo's case, he thought that that thing might just be his brother, dead or alive.

However, that just was not the case.

"Donny, I would not hurt you, not in the least."

It was then that Donny smiled, the same clinical smile from before. The smile that never reached his eyes.

"I know Owen. I know. But a lot would take advantage of us. Like I said before, this _is_ New York. People here are after quick money, and what's a quicker way than handing the scientific community one of the few true wonders of the world, a giant, talking, walking, _coherent_, turtle?" He brought sad eyes to meet Owen's before turning back to his work, and all at once, Owen understood.

They were a hunted species, hunted by people that didn't even know what they were looking for, except for quick cash.

'So when I mentioned that I was a bounty hunter…'

"It was enough to raise suspicion." Donatello finished for him, his eyes and hands never leaving the machine before him.

However, despite Donatello's uncaring for the whole thing and obvious obliviousness, Owen froze completely, his eyes wide.

Did Donatello do what he thought he just did?

However, immediately sensing Owen's change in demeanor, Donatello once again stopped what he was doing to turn back only to find Owen staring at him, his eyes uncharacteristically wide.

Donatello blinked.

"What?"

Owen was completely in awe. Donatello had read his thoughts, just as he thought he had earlier with Leo. Originally, he had come in here to question him about it, but then, had gotten a bit…sidetracked. But now, he saw that his original suspicions were correct. Donatello was developing as a vampire, and as such, he could read thoughts.

He just didn't know it yet.

However, that was what blew Owen away. To be able to do it without any sort of instruction or a single lesson was just, nonexistent. But here this turtle was, reading thoughts just as every vampire should.

Wait…turtle?

Could it be possible that whatever mutingen that changed Donatello into what it was playing apart in his vampirism now, devolving it into a higher state just as it did with the turtles years ago?

Well, only time could tell. For now, all he could do was wait to see.

Nevertheless, he knew that with this new discovery, Donatello had to be filled in as to what was happening, and what would be the focus of their new lessons.

Now he was physic. The hard part was just learning how to control it. But he couldn't dwell on that now. First thing was first, Donatello needed to know.

Therefore, Owen started from the beginning which seemed to be as good a place as any.

"Donatello, when you first changed….do you remember…hearing…voices?…"

-

Hm, I am torn. What do you think?


	14. Chapter Fourteen

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, never will. Centrice and Owen are mine though.

Chapter Fourteen

If he thought that things were weird before then he had just discovered a new and frightening level of weirdness. All he could do now was watch Owen steadily, blinking in complete disbelief at what the vampire had just shared with him.

The worst part about it was that Owen was serious.

"I-Is this some sort of joke? Because if it is, I am _NOT_ amused."

Owen couldn't help but smile. For a mutant turtle vampire that just learned he had psychic abilities, he took the news quite well.

"No, Donatello. I am anything but joking with you." He reassured the turtle.

They were in the lab, now, their conversation taking them into the wee hours of the morning. In other words, primetime for vampires like them. However, despite the night tide, Donatello still seemed tired, his body not used to either lifestyle, the 'living' or the vampire life.

It was an attribute Owen noticed immediately. He would have to work with Donatello in that aspect, making him more accustomed to the night as a vampire should be. Nevertheless, that was something he would have to worry about later.

Now, there were bigger things to worry about.

Mainly, the non-to-pleased pupil before him.

Donatello had to accept his gifts; otherwise, they would be lost, deeming him just as inadequate as the other vampires of this day and age.

But, if Owen had a say in it, he would not let that happen. Donatello would learn the ways of the vampire…if he wanted to or not. Besides, in the long run, it all would be for his own good.

And for his family's good as well.

"Well, I guess that's what you were talking about when you mentioned "the next phases of my lessons," huh?"

Donatello's now calm voice racked Owen from his thoughts. Looking up, he saw that the turtle now sat, his rant finished, his spontaneous anger gone. All that was left was a distant look of disbelief that seemed to leave Donny slumped in his chair.

And who could blame him?

Learning that you were physic as well as telepathic was a lot to soak in.

"Maybe… I should leave you to your work. And yes, that was what I was talking of. But…I see it is a lot to absorb at once, so I will leave you to yourself for the night, Donatello…" He trailed off, watching Donatello for his reaction, only to realize that Donatello seemed to be already taking his advice. Don now leaned over his workbench; the tools of his trade left motionless as he blinked distantly from his perch over them. Owen had no doubt in his mind that 'thinking' wouldn't be a problem for his pupil.

He would be doing that all on his own, and lots of it.

Therefore, Owen should leave him to that.

"I think I will retire for the evening…Good night, Donatello."

Owen watched as Donny nodded his recognition, but did not reply otherwise. He had a feeling he wouldn't. And likewise, Owen left the room without complaint.

It was a lot to absorb, the knowledge that you had the mental possibilities for being one of the most powerful beings of this world.

A lot to absorb indeed.

* * *

Owen sighed as he stared at the ceiling above him.

So much had happened that day. So much to think about.

So much to plan for.

However, despite it all, Owen's thoughts couldn't but wonder back to the turtle he had left in the lab no more than a few minutes ago.

And his heart couldn't help but go out to him as well.

The vampire way is a lot to learn, and to understand, but Donatello, with these circumstances, never had the "time" to learn them appropriately. The first "lessons" should have taken months, finally ending with the discovery of the _Plane_, but with Donny, it happened within a few _nights, _but with the same consequences.

Donny had discovered the _Plane_, and because of that, he was already more of a vampire than half of the bloodsuckers out there.

But there was still more to learn. A lot more. However, just as there was more to learn there was less time, Owen could feel it. Less time until Donatello would have to use those same powers to survive, and protect his family as well.

Nevertheless, the lack of "time" for his pupil still made Owen frown even though it was completely out of his control.

'First of all, Donatello would need to learn the basics; controlling his powers…'

From elsewhere in the same room, his bible levitated up, its open pages closing neatly as if floated skyward.

'Then and only then could Donatello learn the true art of Levitation as well as the art of…'

A knock on the door broke his immediate concentration, startling him from his respite. Owen shot up as the bible fell back onto the desk, the soft '_plunk_' and his shallow breathing sounding out in unison as he listened closely to the world around him.

He listened to three more soft tapings before finally realizing that he was not imagining things.

Someone was at the door.

'At this hour?'

Nevertheless, he stood, stretching from his prolonged rest before tracking over to the closed doorway. Opening it soundlessly, he could only blink as he slowly beheld the green face on the other side.

"Michelangelo?"

Mike looked into the room with hesitance as he fidgeted from foot to foot. However, despite his nervousness, he still managed to pull off his 'Mikey' charm in the form of a wide grin.

"Hey, what's up?"

Owen was not fazed as he peered through the crack of the door and into the turtle's face, a small frown spreading on his lips as he did.

"You _do _realize what time it is, don't you?" Owen's eyebrow arched as the turtle shrugged, the slight grin shining through the darkness of the night around him.

"Why, did I wake you?" Was his retort. Owen shook his head, as Mike grinned wider. "Then what's the problem? Let me in." The turtle all but demanded his entry, which earned him another look from the pale vampire. Mike bowed his head as he remembered his manners. Owen was their _guest_ after all.

"Please?"

Owen blinked once before stepping back, making just enough room between him and the door for the turtle to shuffle inside. There was a soft click as the door closed and Owen turned, finding himself face to face with a giant humanoid turtle.

"So, what did you want, Michelangelo?"

"Mikey."

"What?" Owen tilted his head as he watched the turtle make his way over to his bed, flopping down and into it without even a bat of the eye.

"Call me Mikey." Was his only words as he bounced, the bed creaking just a little under his weight. Owen rolled his eyes at the turtle's antics.

"Micheang-"

"Ah, ah, ah! Mikey, 'member?" Mikey scolded the vampire, and as a result, the vampire sighed before giving in.

"….Mikey, what is it that you needed to see me for?" The shortened name sounded weird on his tongue, but he ignored it, more interested in the being now sitting on his bed. At the question the turtle finally stopped his hopping, the bed's creak ceasing as he finally looked the vampire in the eye. Owen watched on in mild surprise as the turtle seemed to go from silly to rather serous in that split second. A great change, especially from this particular turtle. It gave Owen something to think about.

Meanwhile, though, Michelangelo had his own thinking to do as well. Actually, it had been his thinking that kept him up that night. And, likewise, it had been that same thinking that brought him out of his bed, down the hallway, and to Owen's room.

And, it was that same thinking that landed him before Owen right now.

But would Owen be able to satisfy his thoughts?

"What are your plans?"

Owen blinked at the new question before moving to tend to his now (thanks to Michelangelo) disheveled bed.

"What do you mean?" He played it cool, arranging his blankets and pillow, only for them to be disheveled once again as Mike continued his bouncing, his somber mood forgotten.

"Your plans! You know, to bust those bad vamps tomorrow night!" He continued where he left off, bouncing up and down, harder than ever. Owen couldn't help but smile at the turtle's antics as he bounced offhandedly, one of the bounces even landing him on his side. The bed creaked so loudly Owen couldn't help but wonder what the others might think upon hearing all of this sound coming from his room. Nevertheless, he waited the turtle out, his pillow still in his hands, as he threw Mike a look.

"Having fun?"

He couldn't help but ask. He seemed to be truly having "fun," if you could call it that. Mike looked up then, a sheepish grin gracing his green face as he flushed a slight red.

"Yeah…" However, his embarrassment quickly passed in a wave of child like amusement as he began bouncing again, this time more in trial than anything else. "It's bouncy, is all. _Way_ more bouncier than my bed."

Owen couldn't help but smile.

How strange this turtle was, totally unpredictable in every way. But it made him just that much more interesting to say the least…

"Mike, are you always this hyper? Or is it just a nightly affair?" He nearly grinned. He bet anything he already knew the answer to that.

Nevertheless, the turtle responded, falling sideways once again, this time onto his shell. "Nah, I just have a "high metabolic rate" that makes me "overactive"…whatever that means. Or at least, that's what Donny says. Raph just says I have sugar for blood. Well, whatever I have, that doesn't mean you shouldn't answer my question!" He stopped then, but not before doing one more big bounce to take him off of the bed altogether and leave him standing. Owen was not fazed as he reassembled his bed, being rather used to the crazy turtle by now. Meanwhile, though, he could feel Mike's eyes on him, watching him evenly as he worked. He tried to ignore it, but with the moments of no change that followed, Owen soon felt that he couldn't take Mike's stare any longer.

"Michelangelo?" Owen turned then, silently letting the turtle know that he was aware of his blatant stare. Mike grew suddenly sheepish once again as he realized that he had been staring. Not only at Owen, but also at his hair…

He never realized how….silver…it was. Totally unnatural, but natural all the same. Definitely…different.

But that was rather expected. Just about everything regarding Owen was "different," his clothes, his behavior…

Even his hair…

But now, like a deer in headlights, he was caught staring. Not only staring, but gawking at the vampire's hair, which in itself he knew was not polite to say the least. But he couldn't help but wonder.

How did it get like that?

He was never one to be shy, so he would get his answer…but not now.

He had bigger things to ask now.

Such as…

"Nothin' Owen. Hey! What about them plans?"

Well, Michelangelo sure got points for being persistent, despite his short attention span. Realizing that this would not be as easily avoided as he hoped, Owen sighed, finally placing the pillow down.

"I trust that just 'going to sleep' is not an option here, is it?"

Mike shook his head as Owen signed again. He really didn't know why this turtle seemed so interested; the entire thing was none of his concern. But, the fact that he was made all the difference.

Still…

"May I ask, _why_ you inquire to know such information, Michelang-"

"Ah!" Mike held up a finger, cutting him off. Owen stopped, surprised with the interruption before sighing, the realization of what the crazy turtle wanted from him making him roll his eyes.

"Mikey…"

Mike grinned before nodding, a rather sly smile spreading on his lips as he contemplated Owen's question, finding that the answer seemed to come easily enough.

"Because, you're Donny's new _Sensei_, making you a new part of this family!" Mike grinned. "Therefore, your problemos are our problemos!"

Owen furrowed his brow at Mike's unfamiliar term (not the newer one, but the one before that).

"Sensei?"

"Oh, you're his teacher. Ya know, like his…_Sensei_. Get it?"

The way Mike saw it, Owen was Donny's new mentor, teaching him how to live with his new changes, or survival as Owen put it. Therefore, it made sense to call him Sensei; although of course, he was not a replacement for their old Sensei…No one could replace Splinter. But like Splinter, Owen cared for the turtles' well being, and only wished for the best, as far as they could tell.

Actually, Owen and Splinter _did _have a lot in common….

Meanwhile, Owen nodded slightly, at least understanding where the turtle was coming from. Sensei, if he remembered correctly from his former studies, could be a label for a teacher or a mentor, which, here, was defiantly the case. But he couldn't help but be moved by the turtle's statement, although ill-versed as it was.

Family. Mike considered Owen a part of the family, all because of his connections with Donatello.

Well, if that was the case…might as well give in to the turtle's demands. Besides, it wouldn't hurt anything to let the turtle in on his plan, since it was he that even allowed what he was planning to be plausible. He and his…'punk'…clothing.

"I plan to go undercover."

"What?" The sudden statement caught Mike off guard, he could tell. And as such, Owen turned to the turtle then, looking him in the eye as he answered Mike's question of the past fifteen minutes.

"I plan to go in undercover, infiltrating their hideout under the cover of being a "new" vampire. That way, I will be able to ask questions and learn all I can without sounding suspicious." It was then that Owen turned away, facing the piles of bags in the corner of his room that now held his new clothes.

He had looked totally different in them.

Definitely, different enough to be another person…

It was surprising how someone's garb could make them change so drastically, in the case of his old clothes and the new.

"Thanks to you Michelangelo, I will now be able to go in undetected….the new clothes making me almost unrecognizable."

However, it seemed that Mike had a different plan, as his gaze once again fell back to Owen's head.

"Not with hair like that!"

At the sudden statement, Owen turned back, only to realize that the turtle's eyes were, once again, locked on his hair.

"What? Why? What's wrong with my hair?" Since turtle seemed unable to turn away from the white mass, Owen couldn't help but look into it himself as he pulled a lock forward and into eye range. Meanwhile, Mike shook his head, his eyes still on the white mass, even after Owen began to look into it as well.

"No dude. Nothin's _wrong_. It's just that _white_ hair, is too…_unique, _for what you're trying to pull_. _You'll be spotted a mile away!"

"Huh?"

He never thought about it that way. His hair _was_…different…but he didn't think it would be enough to get spotted, but if the turtle said so…

"What should I do to it then…Mikey?" The name still sounded weird on his tongue, but he could tell he was getting used to it as he waited for an answer. However, Michelangelo's next move totally unexpected, throwing Owen off and seemingly into a another country. Mike walked over, approaching Owen before stopping, his own fingers finding their way in Owen's hair.

Owen watched on in utter amazement as Mike's hand wasted no time in finding his pale locks. Meanwhile, Mike looked into the hair of his new self-proclaimed project as he came to an ingenious decision.

"…We could dye it…"

"Dye it?" Owen sputtered.

"Yeah." Mike's hands continued their roam, his full, unbroken attention on the hair of his new project. His eye ridges rose as he got a even new and better idea.

"…and cut it…"

"Cut it?!" Owen voice took on a new tone as he spoke. Meanwhile, Mike rolled his eyes. "Is there an echo in here? Yeah, cut it! Why, wat'sa matter?"

From underneath Mike's still hand, Owen coughed.

"Well, I particularly do not enjoy getting my hair…trimmed…"  
Mike almost laughed aloud.

"You're _scared _of getting your hair cut, Owen?!" This time he did laugh, his chuckles deep and heavy. Owen almost cringed. Too loud.

"Mikey, try to keep your voice low! You wouldn't want to wake up any of your brothers, would you?" His tone was hushed but urgent, and immediately Mike quieted. Owen also couldn't help but notice how much easier the shortened name came to him. He could get used to it. "Besides, I'm not scared. I just don't like cutting my hair, is all." He assured the turtle, but nevertheless, Mike's hand never left his hair. This time though, instead of just being in it, he drew a few strands out and into Owen's eye reach as well.

"It would only be a few inches off the ends. See."

Mike demonstrated, "cutting" Owen's hair to as short as it would be, leaving the "remaining" hair outside of his two fingers. Owen watched on as Mike continued.

"That's it. See, it wouldn't be too bad. Plus, it would be just enough to change your look completely. I'm telling ya, you would be completely unrecognizable." Mike beamed then, his fingers busy in Owen's hair. He could almost see the hair cut now, which he would do himself of course.

Nevertheless, by the time he was through, Owen would look totally sweet!

However, Owen didn't seem too convinced. In his mind's eye, he stepped back, looking at the scene full on for the first time. There he was at three in the morning, standing in the center of his room with a giant turtle's three digit hand running laps in his hair. To say he was uncomfortable would have been an understatement…

"Mikey? Please, can you no-" Owen was suddenly cut off by a tapping on the door. He froze, as well as the swooning Michelangelo, for only microseconds after the door rapped, it was opened…

By none other than a sleepy Leonardo.

"I know it's rude to barge in, but I was hearing a lot of noises. Are you ok Owe-" Leo was cut off as he finally looked up and into the room only to find the vampire in question as well as his youngest brother, fingers literally imbedded in the vampire's hair. Mike seemed to squeak then, ripping his hands from the other's hair as Owen just stared.

However, by then, it was too late.

Leo blinked before seemingly turning back around, his eyes instantly wide.

"I'm just going to pretend….I didn't see _any _of this. Good night!"

"Ah, Leo, it's not what it looks like-!"

But by then, though, Leo was already gone.

Mike huffed before turning to look back at Owen only to catch the angered stare the vampire threw at him. But in response, Mikey only shrugged.

"Well, it could have been worse…"

Owen blinked, his senses finally coming back only to be thrown off once again by Michelangelo's statement.

'Could have been worse my foot!'

"Oh, and how do you suspect that, _Mikey?!"_

The shortened name came out as a curse, the turtle flinching at its sound before responding truthfully.

"At least he didn't come in earlier and catch me in your bed."

-

LMAO! Whoo! That was fun! What do you guys think! R and R!


	15. Chapter Fifteen

Disclaimer:…a little…

Chapter Fifteen

Owen's nose twitched slightly as he was awoken from his sleep, the smell of food rousing him from his state of slumber. Before he willed his eyes opened, however, he settled into the darkness of his mind's eye as he focused everything on his sense of smell, sniffing the air.

Michelangelo was cooking. Or at least he hoped Mike was cooking…

'Who would have thought a giant mutated turtle from the sewers could be such a good cook?'

'Who would have thought that you would've ended up in the sewers to eat that giant turtle's cooking?'

Touché.

In one motion, he opened his eyes, swinging his legs over and out of the bed. He still felt tired, something he had been noticing with all of his slumbers. It seemed that ever since he had moved in with the Day walkers of this lair, he too, seemed to mold to their patterns of behavior, his sleeping habits becoming affected as well.

In other words,…he was suffering from slight Sleepyhead-itis.

As a vampire, he wasn't even supposed to be up this early. But as long as he caught a good nap during the day, he would be ok. _That_ wasn't the problem.

It was the very fact that he had even woken up at all. _That_ was the problem.

Things had definitely changed.

'Yes, but was it for the better, or worse?…'

His stomach growled in response, his need for food replacing any philosophical musings he could develop. He sighed.

Looked like his musings would just have to wait.

Besides, he was too hungry to think now anyways.

He stood up then, stretching his hands up high as his former dream came flooding back to him in a wave of memories. And what a strange dream it was…

He had dreamed that a giant lizard with an orange tail fell into his hair and became tangled in his white locks. After sometime and with much effort, Owen was finally able to get the monster out of his hair, but ended up damaging his hair and a his pride as a result. However, that wasn't the worst part.

Just as he had gotten the lizard out of his hair, another one took its place, which in turn, surprised him _and_ the newly appeared, _blue-tailed_ lizard…

Too weird…

Good thing it wasn't real.

****

'Yeah…good thing. And to bad it already happened.'

His mind smiled at the irony of it all as he frowned for the same reason, dropping his face into his hands.

Yesterday's events came flooding back to him in a rush of unwanted memories.

There were so many things _wrong _with the scene of the night before that all Owen could do was hope that Leo would just forget about it all, much like he was trying to do now.

And hopefully, Leo was having better luck than Owen with the task at well.

Hopefully.

Owen sighed, lifting his head just enough to look at the door that loomed before him

'Well, as the saying goes…'

'The only thing to fear is fear itself.'

It was time to face the fireworks.

And hopefully, they wouldn't turn out rainbow…

Opening the door, he journeyed out into the hallway and then into the kitchen as he followed the tantalizing smells that lead him from within. They were all there, now, already sitting at the table.

That he did expect.

What he didn't expect was their conversation topic, which, for the time being, it didn't seem to be on him…

Actually, it didn't seem to be on anything…anything _recognizable _that is.

He watched as Mike placed the steaming hot plate of normal waffles on the table only to be followed by a large vat of homemade strawberry sauce as well as his infamous scrambled eggs. And as usual, his mouth never stopped moving as it worked continuously as well.

"I know Leo, but I really think I should do it. I know I can pull it off!" With Mike's speech it seemed that Owen came in right in the middle of the conversation for Leo only shrugged before continuing.

"I know Mike, but you've never done this sort of thing before. What makes you think you can pull it off now?"

Owen's mind moved a mile a minute as he stopped at the door.

'What 'sort of thing' are they talking of?'

Soon though, the realization that he was eavesdropping moved him to step into the kitchen. That way he wouldn't have to eavesdrop, joining the conversation "legally" with his presence. He walked right in, making his hesitation at the door nothing more than a minor lapse in step as he made his way from the door to the table.

And as such, he was greeted accordingly.

"Hey, Morning Owen! Want some waffles?" Mike, in his usual upbeat grace welcomed him to the table, pulling out a seat as he walked by, which so happened to be the same seat Owen sat in before. Owen took note, his eyebrow rising slightly at the coincidence…or was it?

'_I have a 'spot' at the table now? Interesting.'_

And it seemed that he wasn't the only one.

Everyone else sat in the same spot as before, proving that, yes, there were designated seating arrangements. However, whether those arrangements were conscious or unconscious, he would never know.

Nevertheless, he was never one to argue.

He nodded to the others as they acknowledged him as well before sitting in his predetermined chair. He wanted to give the seating it more thought, he really did, but at the new and stronger waft of food, his stomach protested once again.

However, this time, he wasn't the only one to hear it.

Raph chuckled from his spot next to Owen as he reached for his share of eggs, but not before passing Owen the basket of waffles.

"Mikey says you've got a_ long _day a head of ya. So I rec'mend you eat while you still can, O'!"

Owen furrowed his brow.

'O'?'

If there were awards for the family that was most talented in shortening names, this one would win the gold, hands down.

Owen to O'? He never would have thought…

It took some time adjusting to his new "name," but still, it was time missed away from the conversation as a whole. And as a result, it continued without him.

"Yeah, Mike informed us of your plans, and we just wanted to let you know, we have your back, Owen." Leo nodded from his side of the table as well as his brother, Donatello. Meanwhile, Owen just stared, barely able to make sense of any of it. He was still too groggy, all of Leo's words running together and into one big clutter in his mind. It took a moment for his mind to iron it out, but thankfully, it was a moment given to him.

'It's **way** too early in the morning for this…'

'Is that so?'

"Yeah dude!"

Mike was chipper as he reached for his own eggs, serving himself up a healthy helping as he spoke. "We're gonna fix you up today for your big spy job. All of us! Dude, you are gonna be absolutely unrecognizable by the time we're through."

Owen too, eyed the eggs, his animalistic hunger reeking havoc on his attention span. However, when Mikey's speech finally reached his cluttered mind, he did a double take.

"W-what?!" He looked up only to realize that everyone's gaze was now on him.

If that wasn't a wake up call, he didn't know what was.

"_All_ of you are going to help me?"

"Of course."

Owen turned to look Leo in the face at his response as he noticed the definite edge he found there, seeming expressing the conviction of his entire clan. With a slight smile, Leo continued. "Mike explained everything to us. We fight for the same causes, you and us; the protection of humans, the senseless decline of values, and the overall preservation of Mankind, physically and ideally. So _basically_, we're all on the same team here.

Why don't we just make it official?"

He reached out for Owen's handshake. However, though, at the sight of Leo's outstretched palm, Owen couldn't help but hesitate.

But just as before, it was Michelangelo's truthful words that brought everything into prospective…

"See dude, I told you we were like family."

Owen looked each member of the clan in the face only to find the same conviction and belief on each of their faces as he did on their leader. Even Centrice held a certain certitude he could not overlooked.

And if that wasn't convincing, he didn't know what was.

He ended his facial scan with the one that began it all, and then finally, on that same turtle's hand.

It was funny. Every new chapter of his life seemed to begin with this same gesture, a handshake from the one they called Leo. Would this handshake be the start of something new as well? He had a feeling he was about to find out…

He was always up for an adventure.

Slowly at first, but then gaining confidence from their encouraging gazes, Owen extended his hand and grasped the extended hand, Leo's hand firm and solid with in his own. As they released, each person at the table seemed to sigh as Leo fell back into his chair, a slight smile on his face. Breakfast resumed as usual for the rest of them, but to Owen, he found that this breakfast was completely different altogether. Way different from any other breakfast with the clan. Because this time,

He was a part of it.

He was a part of this clan, accepted amongst its ranks as a tutor, and as a friend.

Owen picked up his fork, his hunger coming back full fledged as he finally ate, a small smile forming on his lips at its palatability.

After all of these years, he was apart of a family again. And surprisingly, he welcomed it just the same.

* * *

Breakfast continued uneventfully and at its end, Owen excused himself, but not before warming up a blood pack. He drank from the plastic bubble as he made his way back to his room, only to dispose of the remaining plastic in the trash reciprocal within. Lying down, he relaxed, settling into his bed and into the welcomed darkness of his room and of his eternal rest…only to find that sleep came too easily.

He regained consciousness what seemed like moments later, but his internal clock told him otherwise.

It was midday.

He had been asleep for hours, but clearly not enough for it seemed that he still felt the blanket of tiredness, even after his nap.

However, Owen soon found himself rousing to the snaking aroma of food, just like that morning.

And just as before, his stomach growled as a result.

'I'm hungry again?'

'Well it takes more than just food to satisfy the 'hunger,' you know that…'

Owen blinked wide eyes, almost sitting up at the realization. His last live feeding…

****

'Too long ago.'

Well, that explained his rise in appetite. As usual, he had gotten sidetrack, and as such, he had forgotten to get a real feed, although he would never admit that aloud. He was a mature vampire, for cripes sakes! It was not as if he only turned a few years ago. But still, on a regular basis, he would usually just _forgot_ to feed. Well, he remembered it now.

He needed a live feed.

And he needed it tonight.

But would he be able to with all that was supposed to be going down tonight? He was pretty much booked as it is…

****

'Well, if you want to survive long enough to report what you find, you'd better find time.'

He stood then, stretching in a complete repeat of that morning. However, this time, he wasn't as anxious or worried as before. If anything, the clan's words had put him at an ease he hadn't felt for centuries. Although he was still quite weary of their 'help,' he knew that at least their minds were in the right place.

They were indeed fighting for the same causes.

So, to help both of their efforts, the most logical thing to do was join forces, just as they did that morning. Thus, making him an official part of their team.

Now all he had to do was remember what that meant.

After more than a half a dozen centuries of being alone, his only fear was that he wouldn't remember how to be apart of a 'group' again.

Nevertheless, he knew there were bigger things to worry about, such as the criminal activities planned to go down that night.

His stomach growled…

And lunch, of course.

With one more stretch and a yawn, Owen shoved the remnants of his slumber away as he made his way to his door. And with yet another yawn, to the kitchen, just like that morning. However, this time, a different scene greeted him.

There on the table sat a single plate.

He would be eating alone.

"Where is everyone?" He wondered aloud. However, despite his rhetoric, he was soon answered nevertheless. Raph's accent voice flowed from the den, followed only by the underflow of sound from the noisome television.

"Aw, Mikey left a while ago to pick up some stuff, but he said he'll be back later. We left 'ya some food though, it's on the count-…"

Owen listened for more instruction but soon found that no more was to come his way. Raph became sidetracked, the TV's blaring cutting into his speech as the wrestling program came back from commercials.

Not giving it a second thought, Owen shrugged, making his way over to the counter to do as he was told. He would have gotten his plate also, but as he opened the covered basket of food, he soon realized that he didn't need it…necessarily.

There, in the basket, were a number of homemade sandwiches (turkey from the looks of it) and a nice fruit salad as well, covered and stored in its own container. He eyed the fruit salad, instantly changing his mind.

'Well, maybe I do need my plate after all…'

Ten minuets later, with a stomach full of sandwiches and tart full of fruit, Owen washed his plate thoughtfully, placing it with the others before journeying onward.

Mike still hadn't come back yet, and with the lair virtually empty, Owen soon found himself hovering towards the only soul he could find...

Raph blinked as the vampire walked into the den…and just stood there, his eyes on the TV as well…

Owen's plan wasn't to make himself comfortable; his stay was not meant to be long, but when Raph sighed and sat up to give Owen room on the couch, he knew he could not turn down such an invite.

Out of all the things Owen could be considered as, 'rude' was usually not one of them. Therefore, he plopped down and into the space Raph's feet had occupied only moments earlier as he sighed. He didn't know this turtle as well as the others, but he did know that this one was dubbed the 'mean' one by his brothers…

He sure did look the part, anyways.

But from his memories of the turtle, his mind told him the very opposite. This turtle seemed to top the cake in with his eagerness to learn.

And as a result, sometimes Owen could truthfully say he had two students instead of one.

Raph absorbed Owen's lessons just as much as his vampire brother, much to his other brothers' demise.

That very fact itself proved that people, or turtles in this case, could not be judged by looks alone…because that judgment can be absolutely wrong.

Owen remembered the first time their paths had crossed, landing them both on top of the Empire State Building. It was his first encounter with these green mutants, although back then, he truly didn't have the desire to have another one. Raphael had been all bloody and torn from a fight that he had already engaged in, making him seem more brute than intelligent being.

But now Owen knew better…

This turtle was the inquisitive one. The one that actually was _intrigued _by the vampire way of life. Yes, this turtle was the one that if fate would have it, he could make a _good_ vampire someday…

And as it was, it seemed this turtle knew that as well.

Now in the present and physical world, they both sat in absolute silence. Although both of their eyes were facing the screen, Owen barely paid attention. He grew restless. His mind, instead of on the screen, was on the others instead. What, exactly, were they up to that would be taking them so _long_?

"Do you know where they went?" He turned to the turtle in red, breaking the silence that had settled between them. And in response, he was not at all surprised to see that the turtle's eyes never left the television. He almost didn't expect a response, but he did get one, although it was not of the sort that he would have personally preferred.

Without batting an eye, the turtle answered, Raph's style and form at its max in his classic response.

"Yup..."

Owen waited.

But no more came, and as a result, Owen fell silent once again. He turned back to the screen at Raph's lack of conversation, but he soon found his attention straying just the same. His dislike for wresting came into serious play, making it easy for him to come up with another question as he stared at the screen.

"So,…you know when they will get back?" He turned again, but just as before, the turtle did not. Instead, and just like before, the turtle responded; his answer short, his eyes still on the screen.

"Sure do."

And once again, he fell silent. Owen couldn't help but raise an eyebrow.

A conversationist this turtle was not.

Nevertheless, Owen grew bold, asking one last and final question.

"So you'll tell me what they're planning?"

This time though, Raph did turn, a smirk growing on his face, and as a result, Owen smiled as well.

'_Finally, some answers!'_

But as it turned out, he had spoken too soon. Raph's next words left him blinking as his face dropped instantly.

"Not a chance."

Raph turned back then, sensing the disappointment in Owen as he too, settled back into the couch. Meanwhile, Owen seethed. It was clear he would be getting nothing out of this turtle today, but that didn't mean he couldn't try to figure it all out himself. Mike had mentioned that he would be dyeing his hair, but running out to get a simple dye didn't take _this_ long. Whatever Mike was planning, it was bigger than that.

Much bigger.

However, before he could even get a change to finish his cogitation, there was a sharp knock on the door, of which, startled Owen from his thoughts. He blinked as he watched Raph stand, instantly make tracks to the door, but not before throwing Owen one last smirk…

Owen sighed.

Whatever it was, Raph was in on it, that much was for sure. Meanwhile, Mike finally entered the lair, but it was then that Owen realized where the rest of the lair had been as well. A now smiling Donatello as well as a smirking Centrice, each with a bag in hand, filed in after the grinning Michelangelo.

Owen almost moaned. He noticed that Leo was not with them, but seeing all those that _were_ was enough information for him to come to a true and drastic conclusion…

They were all in on it, every last one of them!

'_I'm not too sure if I like the idea of 'teamwork' anymore…_'

****

'Especially when that 'team' is working against you.'

However, before he could complete his negative musings, Mike's voice sounded out from the now _busy_ lair.

"Owen, are you ready?"

Owen sat back down, offering no hesitation at all in admitting his rather truthful answer, and quoting Raphael all at the same time.

"Not a chance."

'He's not the only curt one around here…'

Oblivious to the connection, though, Mike laughed, his chuckle deep and low before continuing.

"Well too bad, cause we're ready for _you_!"

He proudly held up the bags, grinning all while as he watched Owen's eyes go from him, to the plastic in his hands. And just as expected, Owen's eyes widened as he made out some of the bag's contents through the lens of the blue plastic.

'Jewelry? Spikes? **Makeup**? What in bloody hell?!…"

He suppressed a groan. Maybe this all was a mistake after all? However, no matter what mistake he had made before, he knew that it was too late, now. And with one more glance at the turtle's face that knowledge was only confirmed with Mike's smirk as well as the smiles and stares of the rest of the present crew.

There was no escape…

Meanwhile, while noting Owen's crestfallen expression, Mike chuckled. "Oh Owen, it won't be _that_ bad. But I can ensure you that it will be a _Shell_ of a Makeover! Get it? Shell? Ha!"

The others moaned, their voices mixing as they chided Mike for his bad joke. Afterwards, however, they all separated as they grabbed a bag from Mike's hand, each one of them leaving to prepare for their pre-appointed tasks. Meanwhile though, Owen just stayed silent, sitting in slight disbelief and in horror as the memory of what he had just seen in those bags filled him with a well-placed dread.

Well at least Michelangelo had been correct in one assumption…

This day would _definitely_ be a day for the ages!

A shell of a day, indeed.

-

Lol. Well, R and R, you know the drill.


	16. Chapter Sixteen

Disclaimer: Now who owns what, huh?! I just bought myself some coat buttons, so now I own something as well…and they are MINE!

Vestque's Lawyer: These buttons are indeed copyrighted by Vestque and her company, Vestque 'n Company. Any use, manufacture, imitation, or illegal sell of Vestque's Buttons will be deemed illegal and the participants will be severely punished.

Vestque:…Heh heh! I have a Hankerin' for some Featherin'…with Tar that is! _-evil grin-_

Vestque's Lawyer:…-_rolls eyes-_…whatever…

Chapter Sixteen

Owen blinked as the room's motion slowed before completely ending, everyone moving to their appointed rooms in order to fulfill their pre-appointed tasks. Even Michelangelo, he noticed, had, too, rushed out of the room, his bag in hand as well. That had worried him.

Wasn't Michelangelo the one _doing_ the "makeover?"

However, it was not until Owen turned back to the den did he finally notice the answer to his questions. One form still remained in the room, having not moved at all from his spot next to the door after opening it.

One single form…in red.

"Well, I guess we should get started then. Come on, O', let's get goin'."

Owen soon found himself alone in the dark den blinking in Raphael's wake as he left the room. It seemed that as soon as Raph had finished his order, he brushed past the white haired vampire and into the halls ahead without another word.

Owen bristled.

'A 'please' would have been helpful…'

How dare that turtle just order him around as if he was just some kind of slave. Definitely not polite, and definitely not acceptable! He had a good mind to just stay where he was until asked properly and politely by the turtle in red.

A good mind!

However, his thoughts skidded to a crashing halt as he heard a door shut from the very end off the hallway.

'The end of the hallway?…My Room!'

Owen rushed out of the den and to his own doorway, nearly throwing the door off it's hinges as he opened it, his shrill exclamation filling the hallway before he could even stop himself.

"_What are you doing_?!!"

Inside of his room, the turtle stood there, a slightly bemused expression on his face at Owen's new and panicky tones. Meanwhile, Owen flushed as the bathroom seemed to explode in laughter, proving that its inhabitants had heard his exclamation as well, as shrill and panicked as it was. He sighed…

He just couldn't win.

Meanwhile Raph chuckled before crossing his arms in well trained defiance, responding in tones that could only be described as sarcastic and cocky, a.k.a., normal.

"What does it look like I'm doing?!"

His stance was all but relaxed as he watch Owen lower his head to shake it in disbelief, his eyes closing for the same reasons. However, before he could open his eyes, or even look up, the spastic sound of rustling plastic made him cringe as he peaked out from behind his own eyelids.

'_That's not what I think it is…is it?'_

However, an even bigger rustling as well as the creak of the bed tempted his curiously just enough for him to open his eyes, and even then, he wanted to close them.

In the short period of time it took Owen to bow his head, Raph had already found the bags of clothes, and had, rather chaotically, emptied the bag's contents onto Owen's bed. Raph heard a moan from behind him, but ignored it as he sifted through the various shirts and pants now spewed all over the formally neat bed. Although all seemed lost, Owen still didn't give up on his complaint, conversing even as Raph seemed to completely focus on the clothes before him.

"So, wait. Let me guess. _You're_ the one that was chosen to pick out my clothes for the evening…right?"

Raph almost smiled at Owen's tone. If he sounded any less 'thrilled' he would have almost hurt his feelings.

Almost.

Raph snickered.

"Why yes, Owen. I am…indeed."

He mocked Owen's proper speech seemingly earning himself a rather disgruntled grunt in return, but other than that, the room fell into a silence only broken by the rustle of clothing as Raph sifted through the pile before him. Owen watched the turtle's shell as he worked, picking up onto to the turtle's sorting pattern almost immediately. Raph would pick up a shirt or pants, then turn to look at it, as if in judgment, before scowling and tossing it over his shoulder in displeasure. He did this several times, each shirt, each pant, not fitting his standards, and as such, they found the floor. Meanwhile, Owen eyed the ever growing pile with distaste. It seemed that nothing fit into this turtle's criterion, resulting in a growing pile of clothes…

On the floor.

Owen frowned.

"Um, do you think that all of this is _necessary_?"

Owen walked up to look past his shell and into the turtle's face, and just like before, the turtle paid him no mind, his eyes on the clothes before him in complete concentration. However, _just_ like before, Raph answered, his answers just as short and unsatisfying as the answers on the couch only a few minutes earlier.

"Yup…"

Owen waited.

Raph smirked.

Rolling his eyes, Owen finally went to sigh in defeat but before he could finish, his sigh was cut off by a sudden and brilliant idea.

Maybe dealing with this turtle was simpler than he thought…

Much simpler.

And as such, it was his turn to smirk as he finally responded.

"Why?"

Raph froze, a small grin forming on his formally smirking face.

Owen was finally playing the game…

Owen watched the turtle's grin as Raphael finally broke the intense gaze on the clothes before him to look up at Owen with a new vigor. Definitely a big change in demeanor. The turtle almost seemed…pleased, as he responded, easily continuing the 'game' of words he had adopted all of his life.

"Cause…"

As a response, Owen raised a sly eyebrow, his next question coming just as easily as the first, for _obvious_ reasons.

"Why?"

He then crossed his arm, a smile playing on his lips as Raph slightly bristled from his spot next to the bed. Most people wouldn't have even _seen_ the change, but…Owen…wasn't most people.

He had seen it, and he smiled as a result. He finally found Raph's game, and as such, it was his weakness.

Thus giving him a sense of victory over the turtle. A great sense of victory.

At his smile, Raph gave the vampire a sideways glance; seemingly turning back to the clothes before him before responding with his part of the game, more out of habit than anything else.

"Cause."

Although he tired to keep his response somewhat absent sounding and uncaring, his smile could be heard in it as well. Owen picked up on immediately.

'He's enjoying this.' Owen grinned.

And so was he. And as such, he continued.

One more time, just for the books.

"Why-"

"Cause I said so! Ya nut!" Raph suddenly laughed, spinning quickly to shove a few articles of clothing in Owen arms. It was quite clear that Owen had finally gotten to him, Raph's short one worded answers dissolving into jesting laughter. Meanwhile, Raph continued.

"Here, try these on. Wiseass!"

Owen looked at the outfit in his arms, and then back up at the turtle, of which he now understood, before walking to leave with a small grin on his face.

However, that grin did not last long for it soon faltered and fell at Raph's next question.

"Where ya goin'?"

Owen stopped mid-step only to turn back to the red banded turtle, blinking in confusion.

"The bathroom?"

His response came as more of a question than anything else, and as an answer to that question, Raph shook his head.

"Can't." He stated simply, "Mike's in there gettin' ready for ya."

Owen thought over what that meant for a moment, the feeling of dread consequently rising in his gut. Yes, he did hear people in the bathroom earlier, didn't he?

Only proving that Raphael was right.

Michelangelo, and from the higher laugh he had heard as well, Centrice, was indeed in the bathroom, and according to Raphael, they were in there preparing for his impending doom.

Meaning…It was best to avoid that bathroom at all costs.

"Well…where am I supposed to change, then?" Owen turned to the turtle in genuine confusion, and as a response, Raphael only rolled his eyes before turning his back on him once again.

"In here, dum-dum!"

Raph fell silent, his attention going back onto the clothes before him as he sifted through for something else that could also be fit for the occasion.

Meanwhile, Owen fell silent as well, but for _different_ reasons.

'In here?'

He looked around the room in sudden realization of what the turtle asked of him, and as a result, he cringed.

He had _never_ changed in front of someone before…

Well, maybe not _never. _He changed in front of his wife…occasionally. But this was a completely different pot of porridge all together.

"You're not done yet?!"

Raph spun suddenly with two more articles of clothing in his grasp only to find the two from before still in Owen's arms. He huffed.

"Come on O', we don't have all day!" He chided, his voice just below a yell as Owen just watched him from his side of the room. Owen seemed to flush, which was more than an interesting sight to see in Raph's eyes as he watched on. Nevertheless, Raph waited, growing more and more amused as Owen seemed to grow perturbed under his gaze. After a moment of this, and with no moves from either party, Owen finally cleared his throat, his eyes anywhere but on the turtle before him.

"Raphael, can you please turn back around?"

Raph raised a stray eye ridge, crossing his arms. He couldn't help but smirk as he finally sensed the opportunity to give Owen a piece of his own medicine.

"Why?"

'Oh the irony of it all…' Raph grinned.

However, through his nervousness, Owen smirked despite himself.

It seemed that his former conclusion was wrong. Raphael _was_ the mean one, and for more reasons than one it appeared.

"You're enjoying this aren't you? You take pleasure in my discomfort and pain…"

Even through his accusations, Owen's smile still gave him away, as did the smirk for the turtle as Raph leaned back coolly, his arms still crossed.

"I sure do."

Owen let his head drop in an attempt to hide his growing grin, but it was no use, for soon he was beaming.

"So, who's the "nut" now?" He asked, his grin crooked as his head tilted to one side in mock seriousness. The grin proved contagious for soon Raph grinned as well before turning back around, his head moving in a slow shake. However, Owen sensed the opportunity and seized it, quickly sifting out of his clothing before sliding into the clothes before him. It only took him a moment, the fear of Raph turning back around making him move just that much quicker. Meanwhile, Raph continued.

"It's still you, O', it's still you. At least I'm not the one taking an hour to chan-" Raph glanced back then before double taking on the newly clothed Owen only to raise an eye ridge in response. Meanwhile, noticing his look, Owen only shrugged.

" …Can't change if you're watching me…"

Raph looked him over, growing silently displeased with the outfit Owen was wearing and turned back to the pile of clothes before him to search for a better choice, but not before responding to the situation as a whole, summing up all his thoughts of the vampire in two simple words.  
"…damn nut."

* * *

The minutes soon turned into a full hour as Raph still sifted through the pile of clothes. Owen watched as the pile on the floor became bigger and bigger as the pile on the bed became smaller and smaller.

"Can I ask a question?" Owen asked, switching from one pants to the other at Raph's request. Meanwhile, with Raph's back to Owen, and his attention on the bed, he responded.

"Yeah, what O'?"

Owen pulled up the pants, and at the sound of the belt's buckle, Raph turned to look him over only to shake his head before throwing Owen another outfit. Now Owen found himself taking _off _the new pants and shirt, and seemingly not caring anymore. After a full hour of just changing from one outfit to another, who cared anymore? All Owen wanted was for this to be completely over with, and he knew that if there were fewer complaints from his lips, this would take _much _less time. So after a while, he figured his best bet was to just keep his mouth _shut_.

Besides, it was easier that way.

However, that didn't mean he couldn't talk overall…just that he couldn't openly complain. And even then, the vampire still found loopholes…

"Why did Mike choose _you _to pick out my clothing? You truly do not come off as the "fashion bug" type to me."

Owen finished putting on the newest outfit just as Raph turned around to check it out but just as quickly, he shook his head before turning back to the now cluttered bed.

And just as dejectedly, Owen removed the new set of clothes.

Meanwhile, Raph huffed at the now minuscule pile of clothes before him. It seemed that nothing had the right feel to it. Not that these clothes weren't 'good' but Owen needed a certain…look…if he was going to be accepted tonight, and none of these were 'it.' On the outside, though, he sighed before finally answering Owen's inquiry, being as clear and as blunt as the new scowl on his currently displeased face.

"Because I know when somethin' looks like shit."

There was a short pause, Owen becoming rather thrown off with Raph's bluntness and its obvious hidden indications before swallowing his displeasure and resuming normal function as he buttoned the pants of which he was trying on.

"I see."

However, it was at that moment that Raph reached the end of the pile, his mind beginning to grasp the thoughts of failure, until he caught sight of one last outfit.

His eyes widened slightly as he held up the dark materials.

"This is perfect…"

His grin was slow but genuine and beyond him, Owen grew curious, sensing the break in rotation almost immediately.

"What? What did you find?"  
"Here, put this on!" Raph spun; suddenly shoving the new set of dark materials into Owen's fumbling arms. Nevertheless, Owen eyed them wearily before complying.

Truthfully, he was getting rather tired of the entire thing as a whole. Change, get judged negatively, and then changed again?

Tiring, not to mention embarrassing.

However this time, Owen immediacy recognized that things were…different.

Evidence?

Raph was smiling for once…

Owen put on the clothes, sipping into the shirt and pants as well as buckling the belt that came along with the ensemble but half expecting Raph to shake his head. However, that never came. Instead, Raph nodded, his smile spreading on his stern face as he looked the vampire over with a manner that could only be described as 'approving.'

"Much better. You still look kind of crappie, but Mike said he was fixing your hair as soon as we were finished here. So now that this is over, looks like you can go now."

Raph waved him off before seemingly reaching for the clothes on the ground to dump them back on the bed. Meanwhile, all Owen could do was just stare, not move from his spot as he watched the turtle in slight shock, blinking in disbelief at the turtle's cocky words.

And likewise, his prolonged stay did not go unnoticed. Raph huffed, falling into a seat on the bed before addressing Owen one last and final time…

"Dude, I said you can go! Mike's gonna be on my ass if we take too long. So before that happens, you need to get out of here, unless you want me to kick _your_ ass!"

After a moment of stunned silence Owen gathered his wits and began to remove the articles of clothing, coolly hanging each piece on his arm to give neatly to the turtle before him.

To say that he was not pleased would have been a grave understatement.

He was _appalled_, having never been so offended in his _life_…

Nevertheless, he bit is tongue, just as he had for the entire afternoon.

'It's not worth it, it's not just worth fighting over anything now..._' _However, as the rage grew in his body, he soon realized that he needed more to calm his sprits than just a simple thought of reassurance; so instead, he meditated, gathering his wits for the appointed and difficult task before him.

And what a difficult task it would to be. For this mission alone he would need to be unnaturally cunning, extremely smart, and deceivingly imperceptible…

Otherwise, he knew he would _never _be able to make it through Michelangelo's portion of the makeover.

…_Never_.

He couldn't help but shutter in slight dread. When Michelangelo had volunteered to help him, he took it with a grain of salt. Although he was pleased that they had even wanted to be a part of his solution, they still caused another problem altogether, and to Owen it was just as bad.

S_mothering_. And what a problem it was!

Mike had taken the entire situation and blown it completely out of proportion, taking the slight job of making Owen unrecognizable and turning it into a complete and utter makeover.

But the question was, was it too much?

Owen sighed. Only time would tell.

But for now, Owen knew had to suck it up. Everything would get worse before it got better.

A lot worse.

So being the brave vampire he was, he would face this obstacle head on. No matter _what _fate threw at him.

He was a _true_ vampire; a fighter by nature. Surviving for nearly a millennia, he was the best of the best of his kind, and for good reason! He couldn't let a few compromising situations take that away from him now. He needed to be at that meeting, no matter _what_!

Besides, at least with the turtles' help, there was literally no chance he would be recognized when he finally got there. Hell! He had a good feeling he wouldn't even be able to recognize _himself_…

So, with that in mind, he handed the newly removed articles of clothing to the disgruntled turtle, once again, not caring at all if he saw his neatly 'boxered' pale form.

He was vampire. As a species, they had survived, literally, several millennia against _all _odds.

He could survive this now.

Stepping into his own pants, he prepared to pull them up, however, and once again to Owen's complete and utter demise, fate had its _own_ agenda…

There was a short knock on the door before it was immediately opened, proving that the person on the other side didn't truly have the time to actually wait for an answer from within. Nevertheless, Owen still sighed in self pity as everything went from bad to horrible in under a second flat. It was a new record for the end of his life…only being matched by the 'scene' the night before.

And just as before, this time it was brought about by the untimely entrance of the very same turtle…

Owen had to admit though; this time the scene was much,_ much_ worse.

This time Leonardo had _somehow_ managed to walk in perfectly synchronized with the worst moment of Owen's life, and just like before, it happened the _worst_ possible way as well.

"Ok, I'm sorry, but Mike is really getting anxious and I just can't take it anymore. You guys hurry up! Mike is…expecting……you."

Leo slowed down as he finally caught sight of the wide eyed Owen, his compromising position making his eyes widen as well. There Owen stood, only clad in a pair of black boxers and white tube socks, of which just poked out from under the only other peice of fabic on Owen's body. His pants...of which, lay in a mass at his ankles...

A thick silence fell over the room, a silence only broken by Raph's ill-timed snicker and then full blown laughter, his form doubling over as he caught sight of both of their faces.

Too much!

"Oh man, Where the hell 'sa camera when you need one?!"

Owen turned then, his head snapping back to glare absolute daggers at the turtle in red, of whom had been riding Owen's nerves all afternoon, and with his laughter, it was the last straw. Fire and Brimstone would have been a walk in the park compared to Owen's glare, which now literally **_burned_** from a fire within, hotter than the fires of hell themselves…

Meanwhile, at the sight of Owen's glare, Raph's laughing stopped instantly as he was suddenly taken back by Owen's intensity. Meanwhile, Oblivious to both enraged vampire and turtle, Leo coughed before stepping through the door and out of the room.

"Well, I guess I'll just leave you two to finish…whatever the hell you were doing." Leo sputtered before leaving the room completely, a shutter going through him.

"I really need to just stop barging into his room. Loads of bad mental pictures avoided that way, that's for sure!"

-

Lol! Well, not as long as I wanted it to be, but oh well. Hm, Mikey's segments seems to be next, I'll take any suggestions you guys might have about Owen's hair style and such, (jewelry ideas, hair cut, possible make up ideas, ect.) Just leave a review or something' if you have any ideas (I have a basic mental picture of what I want, but hey, I love adding stuff from the readers as well, makes it more fun that way) So, R and R if you wanna. More coming soon regardless, though.


	17. Chapter Seventeen

Disclaimer:…Jellybeans are good…that's all I need to say…

Chapter Seventeen  
  
Owen looked up and into the old, aged wooden door, of which he was sure lead to certain doom, and hesitated.

He did not want to go in. Not after everything he had _already_ been through.

It seemed that today's events had only led him from one embarrassing situation to the other. One trial after another, it seemed, his pride slowly disintegrating with each passing moment of this dreadful day.

However, it wasn't as if he had always felt that way…

In the beginning, he had found it to be quite "manageable," "nothing he couldn't handle," just another small hill in the road to victory for him.

But now…

He knew better.  
  
A little wiser since that morning, and a little shrewder from past experiences of that very same day, he understood just enough now to see the _bigger_ picture.   
  
Fate was testing him, now more than ever, him taking it upon himself to go about tonight's mission alone. He needed to be strong for that mission, strong and undetectable.

And this, as fate would have it, was his preparation.

Tonight, his limits would be tested and stretched to their extremes, just as they were now.

Almost as an extension of the physical preparations, these…turtles…now prepared mentally, whether they knew it or not. Through them, he learned how to control himself and his emotions in order to achieve his goals…well, in this case…their goals.  
  
So, with those thoughts in mind, he sucked it up, recognizing the challenges now, and rising to meet them.

He would survive both endeavors, today _and _tonight, if he had a say in it. He would survive and strive, just as he had for centuries.

Besides, he always liked challenges.   
  
However, as he listened to the voices just on the otherside of the door, he couldn't help but be knocked down a notch or two on the ego latter. The voices beyond the door were a little less…assuring…compared to his previous thoughts.

"But are you sure we will need that much dye, Mikey? His hair is white, it shouldn't take **that** much."

"Relax Cent-Piece…I know what I'm doing."  
  
Silence.  
  
_"Mikey, you're basing all of your prior hair experience on a movie**…and you didn't even stay to watch all of it!**"   
_  
_"But that doesn't me I don't know what I'm doing!"  
_  
Owen sweat dropped, and he knew Centrice did as well. Mike could be quite the character, a handful for anyone that was even in the same room as him.

He all but knew that from experience…

So, naturally, he felt sorry for Centrice, the human girl being forced to bear with Mike's over-activity in order to achieve something remotely constructive…

Owen sighed.

Constructive.

That was what this was.

Conductivity in the sense that, it was helping his cause as well as theirs.

So with that in mind, and with a humble swallowing of his pride, Owen took one more breath of freedom before willingly stepping into the clutches of doom, a.k.a. Michelangelo's makeshift hair station….a.k.a. the bathroom.

And as a result, he was immediately received.

"Owen, where have you been?! You're sooo lucky we didn't start without you!"

Owen went to smile at the turtle's joke, as did Centrice, but with one look at Michelangelo they both realized that he was indeed serious. Both of them immediately stifled their humor, Centrice turning her chuckle into a cough, while Owen just settled for smiting his smile entirely. Meanwhile, Mike watched their antics, a hand on his hip before just giving up. He really didn't find anything funny about this. Owen's hair was serious; this was important business!   
  
Very, _very_ important business that needed his immediate attention!  
Therefore, he quickly continued, pushing the ADD part of his mind aside as he turned to the small portion that was left.   
  
And focused on the task at hand…

In that instant his entire demeanor changed at Michelangelo-speed (the warp speed of Michelangelo), his arms raising in emphasis as he spoke his greetings, the grin and pride all but evident in his voice as he addressed the vampire in welcome.

"Welcome to my new kick-ass Salon! I even named it…Mikey's Kick-ass Salon! Step on up, grab a stool, and I'll get to you in a moment!" Mike's voice beamed as he motioned towards the stool. In response, Owen complied without a word, but not before throwing questioning a look at the only human in the room.

She only shook her head in dismissal.

'Don't ask.'

Plopping down and onto the wooden stool, Owen sat and waited, his back to the turtle but his face to the door. Then, and only then did he feel the true obligation to look around, having never actually gotten the chance to soak in his surroundings before hand. But now that he did, he had to admire their dedication.

It seemed that in that little time between their return and now, Mikey and Centrice had seemingly been busy almost completely "remodeling" the bathroom into…well, a "salon," just as Michelangelo had said.   
Or at least, that's what it looked like.

Where tile was bare, it now overflowth; where shampoo was lacking, it was now provided. It seemed that everywhere Owen looked, there was some hair product or another inhabiting that space, all of them nicely arranged on every available space in the small bathroom. Nevertheless, although they sat neatly and nicely, they still proved to be overwhelming to Owen. He didn't even know what the majority of those products _were, _not to mention what they were used for,but there they stood, all neat and ready for him.

They were everywhere…

On the sink, on the counter, and when that was full…on the bathroom floor. Actually, in reality, it seemed that the there were _still_ too many products, the canisters, sprays, and bottles filling the floor as well. And as it seemed, line of hair products also continued beyond his immediate line of vision. So, turning slightly in curiosity, he followed the line…only to find that he would have to turn even more to see the rest…and even more after that to see the rest still, which left him right back where he started,

As he completed a three hundred and sixty degree turn.

He neatly frowned at it all, seemingly growing unhappy at how foolish he must have looked, spinning around on his stool like some overactive two year old.   
  
How demeaning…  
  
However, it seemed that he was the only one to pay witness to his own "silliness," the other beings' attention being elsewhere at the moment, which was good.

A notch less to take away from his ever faltering ego.

Sounds from behind him caught his attention, so he turned, only to realize that it was Michelangelo. With his shell to his vampire of a client and his mouth never ceasing, Mike sang to himself as he prepared the chemicals in hand. However, it was then that Mike suddenly spun, his voice booming in a show of his obvious insanity as he unexpectedly spoke up.

"Secure the patient, nurse!"   
  
Owen started at Mike's sudden speech, gulping lightly when it registered.

'_Patient?'_ His mind squeaked. He really wasn't sure if Mike was joking or not, which ended up just throwing him off even more…

However, his face must have reflected his fretful puzzlement for Centrice's small chuckle soon resonated in the small room as she quickly reassured the now….well, spooked vampire.

"He just wants me to wash your hair, that's all…" She explained, and in response, Owen made a slight "o" before falling silent once again. He felt slightly foolish for his former conclusions, but he kept his displeasure to himself.

With a push off of the adjacent wall, Centrice made her way over to the now tranquil Owen, but not before retrieving a plastic smock from the set of plastic bags that had been neglected to be removed from next to the doorway, mainly because there was no more room to put all of its contents.

Owen sighed as he watched Centrice approach him with the smock, raising an eyebrow in response. This was all very new to him, and as such, he didn't know what to expect. But just like before with Raphael, he knew that the best way to approach this was to not argue over their decisions, which would making everything go smoother in the long run.

Or at least, he hoped it would…

However, with Michelangelo being behind this operation…_nothing_ was guaranteed! Therefore, the most he could do was be passive and hope, _hope, _for the best.

Sitting as still as he could, Owen let her wrap the plastic shawl over his slim but muscular form, her own small figure stepping around him to fasten the smock closed at the base of his neck.

Now "secure" and nervous, Owen waited, his hands fidgeting lightly with the new plastic that now inhabited his upper body. Why he was so nervous, that was beyond him…however, he didn't get a chance to ponder it, her voice immediately interrupting his thoughts. He looked up then only to realize that Centrice had moved.

Now at the bathtub, she leaned down, seemingly, turning on the water. "Owen, come over here and lean down, we have to wash your hair before we can administer the dye."

Owen hesitated, going into ponder-mode once again with her new request.

Wash his hair?

Well, it did made sense…Obviously, the hair would have to clean for the dye could take effects. Anyone that called themselves smart knew that. But the idea of _Centrice _washing his hair still made him hesitated nevertheless.

But, with a slight shrug, Owen did as he was told.

He _did _promise himself he wouldn't argue.   
  
And he always kept his promises.

So with those thoughts in mind, Owen stood from his perch on the stool only to cross the relatively small bathroom to the tub where Centrice stood, but stopped again, growing puzzled as he discovered the newest…setback…to their plans.

"How…exactly…am I supposed to do that?"

He eyed the space around the tub, grown smaller still by the turtle and the girl as they both crowded around it. He knew they probably wouldn't have any trouble if they were in his shoes, their…stoutness…allowing them the ability to dip their heads under the faucet in such a small space. But he would have…difficulties with the task, him being about a foot taller than both of them!

'There is just no way…'

"Lucky" for him, Michelangelo chose that opportunity to come around, actually paying attention to his surroundings for the first time in several minutes. And as such, he immediately came to Owen's "rescue," much to the vampire's undaunted surprise…  
  
"Oh no prob, O'. I'll move!" He stated with a grin, feeling rather noble over his own selflessness. Turning then, Mike scooted past Owen and the cluttered tub before settling down and on top of the only space available that would not interfere with either Owen or Centrice as they moved about.   
The empty toilet seat.

Owen watched on as Mike sat on the closed lid, black chemicals in hand. Crossing one leg over the other, Mike continued to stir up the chemicals, seemingly undisturbed over the fact that he was doing this while sitting on the toilet.  
  
Lucky for Mike, Owen was disturbed enough for the both of them.

However, before Owen could comment on any of the "wrongness" that just occurred, he soon found that his voice would have been drowned out by the bath water as Centrice turned on the tub's faucet. After a moment of water-testing, Centrice then grabbed a near by towel and moved the stool, in hopes to accommodate the rather _tall_ vampire.

"Ok, Owen. It's ready."

She motioned for him to get in position, and with a few choice footings, Owen found himself kneeling, rather uncomfortably at that, under the faucet of the bath tub. Nevertheless, he also found the tap water to be rather soothing to his scalp, and for that he was grateful.

Not to hot, and not too cold…  
  
Meanwhile, Centrice looked over Owen's hunched back and into his drenched hair in awe.

Never had she been this close to the vampire…and some how, he still managed to be threatening, even in the submissive positioning.

It was enough to make her hesitate, which seemingly, did not go unnoticed.

She watched as Owen turned under the water just to throw her a look of...uncertainty.

'Is she going to wash my hair, or not?'

He was genuinely confused. And her just, well, standing there didn't help the situation.   
_  
'Maybe I'm supposed to wash it myself…'_

That wouldn't have been bad, actually, that would have been preferable. However, just as he began to seriously contemplate the thought of washing his hair himself, the thought was screeched to a halt as her fingers entered his hair without warning. And as a result, he bristled…before relaxing.   
It looked like she would be washing his hair after all.

But still, this all felt so…awkward.

Behind him he could all but feel her heart beat as her breath literally washed over his neck.

He had never been this close to a human before…  
  
Well, a human he had no intention of drinking from. So it took a strong will power to suppress the growing urges of the creature within, his soul being awakened by the pump of her heart, and at the sweet smell of the blood beneath her skin…

Nevertheless, it was a will power he knew he possessed.   
  
He would not harm her in any way.  
  
In **_any _**way…

And besides, she was _helping_ him, as a friend, for a friend. There was no way he could ever let any harm come to her, or to any of his friends…

No way.  
  
Owen's mind trailed off as he gave into the sensations of her hands in his hair, this being the only time in his long, long life that someone other than him actually washed his hair.   
  
And it proved a rather…different experience indeed.

Her ministrations proved soothing as she massaged his scalp with her slim sudsy digits.

Very soothing…

Made him forget about the "urges." It made him forget about _everything_. It made him relax, feel at peace. And most of all…

It made him sleepy.  
  
Meanwhile, Centrice worked diligently as she leaned rather uncomfortably over the tall vampire.

'Ug.' She thought as her back strained at the awkwardness of it all. _'I'm gonna feel that in the morning…'_

Nevertheless, she continued, her weight being distributed onto the tiled wall as she leaned over and almost _into_ the tub, her hands busy in the vampire's hair. Lucky for her Owen was being as cooperative as he was, otherwise she knew this entire thing would have proved, very, _very, _difficult.

However, that thought soon fled and melted into puzzlement as Owen seemed to relax a little _too _much under her fingers…

His head went slack in her hands and under the water as it fell lower and lower, sliding slowly to the bottom of the tub.

She frowned.

'What the hell?'

She kind of let her hand relax, not really knowing what he was doing, but giving him the liberty to continue his slope downward…that is, until…

Owen's head hit the bottom of the tub with a '_thunk!'_

"Oh Shi-" Was all she could muster as she suddenly pulled Owen up, the rather loud noise startling her from her wondered observation. However, unfortunately for Owen, he too, pulled up with a giant start from the bottom of the tub. The force of them both resulted in him going from one hard surface to the other, the back of his head colliding rather painfully with the faucet above.

"Holy -- !" Owen bit his tongue as a string of profanities flowed through his now throbbing head. He was never one to curse, but even he had to admit that this was _good _reason to start. Nevertheless, he kept quiet. Besides, it was mostly his fault…

Disconnecting himself from the faucet, he brought his hand up and to the sore spot, before bringing it back down to his face. There was a little blood, but with the sudden lack of pain he assumed what ever it was had already healed over. Meanwhile, both Centrice and Michelangelo were immediately at his side, a slight wave of panic flowing from each of them as they both talked at once.  
  
"Whoa Dude! Are you ok?!"  
  
"Oh my God! Owen, are you alright?"  
  
Owen stood, the water of his hair running into his face as he blinked at them   
before growing sheepish under their worried gazes.   
  
How embarrassing…  
  
"Yes, yes I am fine." He reassured them. However, they still did not seem convinced.

"You hit your head pretty hard there. What…exactly…were you doing?"

Centrice's now baffled voice echoed the small bathroom, and with that came Mike's inquisitive stare as well. Clearly, he was wondering the same thing.   
But would telling the truth be worse than the act itself? Maybe, but that was something he would just have to live with, broken pride and all.

"I fell asleep." He stated simply, the horribly embarrassing truth coming out in three simple words.  
  
Those words were his undoing.  
  
There was a moment of absolute silence before the room exploded in uncontrollable and relentless laughter. He watched in complete discomfiture and embarrassment as Mike and Centrice seemed to double over, falling all over each other in the process…leaving Owen to watch them in self pity.

'When will this day end?' He asked the heavens in despair.

However, it seemed that Fate still had another trick up her sleeve, adding one more twist to the tale.  
  
For there was soon a knock on the door.

* * *

Leonardo knocked cautiously on the door, but that was all. 

'No way am I opening this door, no way in hell!'

Nevertheless, despite his determination not to enter the god-forbidden bathroom, he was still worried.   
  
Before, he had just been walking by, making his way from his room to the kitchen for a bite to eat when the sounds from the bathroom all but waxed his curiosity. Well, not the "talking" exactly, he knew people were in there…  
It was the _"thunk"'s _themselves that worried him, as well as the exclamation afterwards by two of the three persons in the room.

It almost sounded as if someone had gotten hurt…  
  
So being the concerned turtle he was, he found himself unable to pass up such a situation, but he would be damned if he found himself in another situation like before…

He shuttered.

'_No way in hell…_'  
  
Now it was just a matter of checking if everything was alright, _without _actually entering the bathroom.

And this might prove to be harder than once thought…

"Is everything ok in there?"   
  
With a lack of response, it seemed that his voice was lost to the wood before him. Clearly, he was not heard, the panic turned laughter filled voices continuing un-phased on the other side.

And as a result, he brought up the volume, rapping rather heavily on the door while calling out once again.

"Hey, is everything alright in there?"  
  
That got their attention. Their voices promptly stopped.  
  
"Leo? Yeah, everything's fine! What's up?"  
  
Michelangelo.

And he was hiding something…  
  
But like always, Leo knew better than to fall for it.

"Nothing's up, except for what's going on in there. Are you sure you guys are ok? It sounded as if someone had gotten hurt."

Unknown to Leonardo, Owen went to speak up in response but with a quickness that could only be associated with a ninja, Michelangelo promptly cut Owen off, a green hand over the vampire's mouth, shutting him up immediately.   
  
Also unknown to Leonardo was the glare that promptly followed, trailed by a single 'gulp' and a removal of the invading hand, only after that same turtle promptly and timely remembered what the vampire was capable off.  
No, Leonardo missed all of it. In the end, all he heard was silence, an unsettling silence that did nothing to help the situation.  
  
"Hello?"   
  
However, just like before, he was quickly "reassured."   
  
"Leo, we're fine!"

Mike's voice screamed apprehension as he once again, attempted to dismiss Leo's intuitiveness with a statement of reassurance, but just like everything else Michelangelo was trying to achieve at that moment…

It wasn't working.

Nevertheless, Leonardo dismissed it. Besides, whatever it was, he was sure he didn't want to know! So, he let it go.

"Well…" He hesitated. "If something's wrong, you make sure you tell me, ok?"  
  
"Yeah Leo. No worries!"  
  
Leo didn't like how quick Mike was to dismiss the whole thing, but he let it go, heading into the kitchen.

However, as he walked, he couldn't help but reflect on how much everything had changed in the past few days.

Renegade vampires, an ancient society dating back to who know's when, a vampire hero that currently lived in their old storage room…

He shook his head  
  
"What have I gotten us into…"  
  
However, Fate seemed to smile at the question, not used to hearing doubt from the fearless leader of the turtle clan.   
  
But she welcomed it nevertheless.  
**_  
'Be patient, young Leonardo, you will soon find out. I guarantee it…'_**

* * *

Now washed, dried, and fried, Owen sat on the stool, awaiting what he thought to be complete doom.   
  
But in reality, it was just Michelangelo.   
  
Nevertheless, this was it, he thought. For here on out, he would look totally different, which shouldn't have bothered him, but it did.  
But why?

Why did it bother him so much?

His mind seemed to shrug in response.

'It just…does.'

He had never really thought about what his 'look' meant to him, but the more he did, the more he disliked the idea of changing it.

Besides, this was 'him.'

He was Owen, AVTech Bounty Hunter, but then…as such, this needed to be done.

For the good of his kind and human kind alike.

So, pushing his pride aside, as well as his impatience and harsh temper, he awaited the rather large transformation the only way he knew how…

Centrice watched in mild curiosity as Owen suddenly reached into his pocket and pulled out…a card? However, that curiosity soon turned into mild fascination. Throwing it suddenly into the air, she watched on in complete awe as it flipped before landing in his right hand. From there, the card was a slight blur to her as Owen maneuvered it between his digits, flipping the silver plastic between each one of his fingers only to have it restart its lap once reaching his thumb.

From there, the card continued its laps around Owen's hand in a form and motion that could only be described as …completely transfixing.   
  
She raised an eyebrow. It was impressive, _very_ impressive…but odd.  
_  
'Must be a vampire thing…'_  
  
However, another sound soon broke her concentration, ripping her away from Owen's hand to the turtle's hands instead. From the other side of the bathroom, Michelangelo hummed softly to himself, black dye in hand as he finished stirring the chemicals. She should be over there with him, helping to prepare the dye as well, but as it was, just she wasn't in the mood…her grumbling tummy being enough witness to that.

She definitely needed a snack… and she would have gone to get one too, but she just couldn't pull herself away from the rather bizarre scene that seemed to unfold before her.

To say that what she was paying witness to was 'nothing new' would have been the understatement of the year!  
An enthusiastic turtle getting ready to do a nervous vampire's hair?

What were the odds?

* * *

Owen flipped the IP between his fingers, watching as the silver, bar-coded, card weaved in and out of his digits just to end up at the thumb once again. 

He sighed.

Just the movement alone, the feeling of the cool card maneuvering through his hand, was enough to sooth him. Not only enough…

That was all he needed.

All of the apprehension and worry seemed to slip from him, through his fingers, and to the card itself. All he had to focus on was the IP, and he would be alright.

He was a Vampire, a true Vampire; this IP was enough witness to that.  
  
And it also was because of this small piece of plastic that people were depending on him to be the best he could be…

As a bounty hunter, he was also a protector. A protector of the people; vampire, human…and turtle alike. He had a job to do, and like always, that job came first. He almost smiled then, the pride with in him swelling at the thought of his work, but the cold drip of liquid on his scalp made him jump instead, the drip happening so suddenly. He didn't hear Michelangelo come up behind him, but from the drip on his head, and the slight breathing now behind him, Owen could truly say that his makeover had officially begun. From behind him, Mike grinned sheepishly before apologizing as Owen quickly grabbed at his bearings.

"Yeah, Sorry O.' This stuff's pretty cold."

This time, however, Owen just couldn't resist.

The temptation was just too strong…

He rolled his eyes, his quick, sarcastic wit beating him to his own tongue.

"Oh, I didn't notice."

Centrice's giggle was unexpected, but he welcomed it, smiling a bit as she watched him with humored eyes. At least with her, he knew he was in semi-capable hands, even with the madman behind him. She would make sure everything went smoothly, he knew that for sure. So with that thought in mind, he relaxed. He watched her in mind interest as she watched him, or at least, his hair…and frowned.

"Are you sure that's enough dye, Mikey?" She furrowed her brow. "Maybe it's not enough?…"

Centrice watched as Michelangelo administered the mixed dye to Owen's hair….but frowned at its thickness. However, Owen grinned then, as she came to his rescue.

Yes! The Sane One. The practical one!

His hero.

She would make sure nothing went wrong, he was sure of it. Therefore, he knew that as long as she was in the room, everything would be ok…

Meanwhile, Centrice sat back on her haunches, looking over Owen and into the mass of hair Mike was now slopping hair dye into. It had seemed like too much before, but now it seemed like too little, its thickness inhabiting it from spreading as it should. Something seemed off…somehow…

"Mike, maybe you should-"

"Centrice, Please!" He cut her off then, looking her in the face as he continued. "You are talking to a _professional_ here! I know what I'm doing." Michelangelo concluded, his chin was pointed up at the word "professional," but he grinned at her all the same. Meanwhile, and as a result, Centrice ceased instantly, her hands lifted in mock defeat as she backed off.

"OK, ok, Mr. _Professional! _My bad!" She sputtered, seemingly backing off and settling back into the mode of 'observer,' but soon found herself frowning once again.

Her stomach seemed louder than ever…

'I really am hungry!'

Meanwhile, Owen frowned at Centrice's stand down as well as Michelangelo's stubbornness. The feeling of the thick mess of goop that spread into his hair didn't seem to help the situation much either, the slow, cold, spread working his nerves into a knot.

But he would live.

His only problem now, was Centrice. She didn't seem to be participating as much as he hoped she would…Mainly because it would be her that would bring him through this, whether she knew that or not.  
But then he had to wonder…Why was she not taking a more active roll in the ordeal? Why was she just sitting back, leaving the entire thing to the madman-er, turtle, behind him?…

Almost as if on cue, her voice broke into his consciousness, ahs she spoke. However, her words proved dire as they suddenly and instantly filled him with complete dread.  
  
"Well, looks like you have everything under control, Mr. _Professional,_ so I'm going to go get a bite to eat, if you don't mind."

She seemed indifferent, her eyes going from the turtle, to the vampire, and back to the turtle as if in mild decision. Little did she know how big an effect her indifference was truly having on the vampire before her.

Owen's entire being filled with a heavy terror that clawed at his mind and broke down his sprits.   
_  
'Oh no…"  
_  
Oblivious to his thoughts and change in mental demeanor, she stood and stretched, frowning all the while. Her back was really acting up now, the strain of before seemingly taking its toll. However, she ignored it, having bigger things to worry about as her stomach growled once again.

"So if you need anything, I'll be in the kitchen."  
From beyond Owen's line of vision, Michelangelo waved her off.

"Yes, my follower, leave. The _Professional_ has spoken." He concluded, his voice swelling in importance before grinning again and offering her a little wave of reassurance at her hesitation.

Which, still…seemed not to work. From the door way, she looked back uncertainly despite his reassurance, her brows furrowing in complete contemplation. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to leave those two alone?…Or at least, to leave Michelangelo alone with Owen's hair.

"Are you sure-?"  
  
"Ah, posh!"

He interrupted her then, waving her away as if she was some silly child. "It's just a little dye, how hard can it be?" He grinned then, making sure to throw all of his charm into it.

Who could resist the Michelangelo charm anyways?

In his entire life, he had never met _anyone _that could resist, and she was no exception...

Centrice released herself from the door frame, her face melting into a smile once again as she looked over the both of them. Fine, if he says he can handle it, then that was good enough for her.

"Well, ok, then. If you say so. I'll be in the kitchen then if you need me."

And with that, she was gone.

Michelangelo sighed then, finally free from her constant watch and care. It wasn't as if he didn't love her, or love being around her. She was practically a sister to him, an overbearing sister, but a sister nonetheless…  
  
But still, it felt nice to have his space, even if it was just for a little while…  
  
Besides, he knew what he was doing.  
  
He looked down and into Owen's crest, the goop gripping unwaveringly in his white hair…or more like, on top of his white hair.

Mike tilted his head.

The dye really didn't seem to be actually _taking_ to the hair…but just sitting aloft, on _top_ of the hair, which left Michelangelo frowning.

It _did _look kinda weird.

Was it supposed to?

A dreaded thought seeped into his mind as he observed the vampire from above.  
_  
'Maybe I do need her help…?'  
_  
But just like everything else in Michelangelo's mind, that thought passed just as quickly. He was a ninja turtle, after all, and as such, he had an innate sense of style in butt-kicking as well as fashion!

Thus, he could handle himself, on the streets and on the fashion scene…

He would be fine; he knew he could handle this.  
It was just a question of how.  
  
"Hm, where did I put those instructions?"

The sounds of Mike searching through the open box (and when not finding what he was looking for) amongst the hair products in and around the sink, filled the bathroom. But Owen ignored it, his eyes wide.   
  
Under the gap of goop Owen still sat stunned, his eyes still fixated on the door, of which, Centrice had just departed from.  
  
Without her, he knew that the entire thing had just gone straight to hell…  
And if Centrice leaving wasn't a clue by itself, Mike's statement sure was.

'The instructions?! This entire time…he **wasn't** using them?!' His mind screamed in anger, his fury rising before suddenly departing in a wave anguish and then self pity. Gripping the IP in one hand, he allow his head to fall despairingly into the other, only to accidentally have the goop go from his head to his hand, coating it in a mass of black slop.

Never before in his long life has he cried…but at this moment, he felt that this was the closest he could ever come to admitting a tear of despair. Instead, though, the most he could do was offer a simple statement of closure, summing up all of his feelings and thoughts into three simple words…

"I am doomed."

-  
  
Ok, Sorry this chappy took so long, but I also wrote it for Beth's birthday. A belated present is still a present, …right? Come on people! Lol, So for her I made this chapter long, which is still a good reward for all you others that waited for it as well, don't you think? (Patience is a virtue)…yeah right! Alrighty, So in summary…  
This chapter is dedicated to a very special girl whose love for TMNT (a.k.a. Leonardo, hehe) consumes her heart and soul. Happy Belated Birthday Beth! R and R all!


	18. Chapter Eighteen

Disclaimer: TMNT not mine, but neither is my life, so you don't here me complaining.

Chapter Eighteen  
  
Owen sat pitifully slumped down onto the stool. It seemed like hours he sat in that seat, but his biological clock told him otherwise.

He had only been sitting there for fifteen, twenty minutes tops! It just _felt _like a whole lot longer…

Nevertheless, still he sat, the fight, the impatience, the anger gone…and replaced by nothing but boredom.

Pure _boredom_.

The turtle had complete his appointed task about ten minutes prior, and now, they both sat in wait, for what seemed as forever, just waiting for the jet black dye in his hair to take affect.

But with no such luck.

It just wasn't _taking_…or at least, that's what Mikey said.

Now the turtle in question sat across from him on the cool porcelain of the side of the tub. It seemed that this turtle, too, was rather impatient as well, for every other minute or so he would stand to inspect the vampire's hair.

Which proved to be a rather dreary cycle indeed.

"Nope, not yet, still not cookin'…."

Mike poked at the hair with the comb, but finding that didn't help anything, he settled for running the comb thorough the hair instead.

Owen, long since not caring anymore about any of it, just sat in his chair; his eyes half lidded, his head neatly in his palms, fingers framing his face as his elbows rested comfortably on his knees.

Oh, how he wished this day would end, but just like with the dye, he was having no such luck.

"Hmm, I'm giving it another five minutes, and then…I guess…I should call Centrice."

Yes, even Mike knew when to call it quits and call in the cavalry. Although his pride said no, his common sense still screamed yes.

He needed help, and he knew it.

Meanwhile, after hearing Michelangelo's speech, the most Owen could do was make a single displaced grunt before falling silent once again. It wasn't that he didn't care, but just, he was so close to not caring, one could almost call it such. This, Mike noticed, and in response he eyed the now yawning Owen before sitting back down on the side of the tub. His shell clanked loudly as he sat, but he ignored it. Instead, he kept his eyes on the powerful vampire before him.

It was just so weird seeing Owen like this, so average, so _normal._  
He remembered first meeting the vampire; Owen came across as cold, powerful…and mysterious.

But now it seemed that with all of this interaction between Owen and their family, the former image of a ruthless, powerful vampire melted down to that of a rather…weird, but normal guy.

A Powerful guy.

But still, a normal guy.

He had thoughts, feelings, likes, dislikes, and quirks, just like the lot of them.

Which made him a person.

Just like them.

But now it seemed, that this 'person' was…well, bored.

If his posture didn't give him away, his face sure did.

Hmm, they still had about two minutes left, maybe Mike could help him get though it…

How?

The 'Mikey' way of course!

Owen sat, his eyes relatively distant in Michelangelo's direction, his mind elsewhere.

However, Michelangelo's next actions were enough to catch Owen's attention, and keep it.

A three-fingered hand waved before his face before falling back into the personal space of its owner. Mike then paused for a moment until he was sure that Owen was actually paying attention, then he brought his hand down to his knee…and then up. The vampire followed with slightly curious eyes.

Half-lidded eyes…but curious eyes nonetheless.

Meanwhile, Mike continued.

Up…down…right…left, his hand moved, and more out of curiosity than any thing else, Owen's eyes followed.

His hand moved in each direction, its travel slow enough to match the vampire's mood, but quick enough to keep his attention.

That exactly was what Mike wanted.

Meanwhile, Owen watched from under half-lidded eyes the weird turtle before him…until…

"BOOGADY-BOOGADY!"

"AHHH!" Owen jumped back, nearly falling backwards off of his stool as Mike suddenly thrusted both of his hands forward and literally **_into_** Owen's face. They would have connected if Owen didn't jump back, but thankfully, for his nearly impaled eyes, he did.

Meanwhile, sudden, uncontained, hysterical laughter filled the bathroom for the second time in as many hours. Owen scowled as he readjusted himself on the stool just as Mike literally doubled over in hysterics.

"You should have seen your face! Too funny!" He stated between laughs. Owen only sighed.

"Hysterical…"

Sarcasm in its simplest form.

Luckily, for him, Mike caught it as well, sobering up at Owen's sarcasm.

Well, almost.

A few chuckles still escaped the laughing turtle, but he did the best he could to cover it up, straightening before placing a hand on the vampire's back in reassurance.

"Aww, Owen. Don't get in a huff! Its cool man, you're cool. You're funny, but cool too. That's what makes you just…so damn cool!"  
Mike shook Owen's shoulders at his last few words, which earned him a small smile from the formally solemn vampire.

Owen just couldn't help it.

The turtle's words were so…unique…it had to make him smile. In his _centuries _of life _never _was he described as…"so damn cool."

This turtle…this silly, insane excuse for a turtle, was just so…different than anyone he had _ever_ encountered in his life…the most he could do was laugh.

And it seemed that the turtle took it as such as well.

Grinning, Mikey gave the vampire one more shake before moving from the vampire and back to the tub, running the water and giving it a quick check before addressing the vampire once more time.

"Owen…it's time."

His voice was solemn…too solemn, seemingly coming straight out of a bad movie, and in response, Owen only rolled his eyes before allowing a small smile to grace his face. He tracked over to join the turtle at the tub.

This time, it wasn't as easy for him to bend over and into the tub, the turtle's shell making him significantly bigger in form and space than that of Centrice, but with a few choice adjustments, Owen soon found himself right back underneath the faucet just like before.

However, as it turned out, that was the only similarity between that morning and now.

This time, the experience proved arduous.

Michelangelo's hands were too rough and thick for him to really enjoy it, not to mention his ministrations weren't nearly as soft as Centrice's, but instead were hard, rough, and almost painful.

Owen cringed as Mike went thorough his hair, but blinked when Mike seemed to freeze, stopping entirely.

Owen froze as well…Was he finished? Was this it? Was it finally over?

However, behind him, Mike squashed all of Owen hopes, sighing before speaking out for the first time since washing Owen's hair.

"I think…"He stated dejectedly, "It's time to call Centrice."

* * *

Centrice stretched as she left the cramped bathroom, happy for the newfound air space and personal area that came with leaving.

With one person in the bathroom, it was more cozy than cramped…but with three people in there, one being an energetic turtle and the other being a six-foot tall vampire… _Cramped_ was definitely the word.

But even though she was still worried about what she had left behind, she justified leaving with the excuse of getting a quick snack.

A _very_ quicksnack.

She wouldn't _dare _leave Michelangelo alone with that head of hair longer than absolutely necessary.

So in order to ensure that Owen get well taken care of she had to eat now and _fast_. Wasting no more time with credentials, Centrice quickly made her way to the kitchen, only to find it already occupied.

Raph and Leo looked up in greetings from their previous conversation.

"Yo' Centrice."

"Hey, long time no see. How's the makeover coming along?"

Centrice flopped down into the empty chair, right between the reading Leonardo and the eating Raphael. They watched in slight wonder as she quickly helped herself to one of the quickly diminishing slices of pizza currently occupying the table.

Pizza…with pepperoni, her favorite.

Meanwhile, between rushed and hurried bites, she responded.

"Well, there was a few…technical difficulties…but it's nothing we can't handle."

Leo and Raph stopped what they were doing just to watch Centrice in mild fascination as she finished the rather big slice of pizza before she could even finish talking.

A Record by far, even by Mike's standards.

"…Hungry?"

Raph could only stare as Centrice shoved the last bit of crust into her mouth before getting up without another word. "Hey…where ya going?!" Was all he could muster, but it seemed it was all lost to her.

She was already out of the room.

At her sudden and unexplained departure, he turned to Leonardo only to find that his brother's eyes was already on him, and like always, an explanation already on his breath.

"She probably had to hurry back…you know Mikey when he's left alone…"

Leo trailed off, there being no need to explain then as he picked up his newspaper once again and resumed reading.

Raphael only nodded, picking up his slice as well, allowing a relative silence to fill the kitchen once more as they both went back to their tasks.

However, they silence did not last long, the both of them jumping as a sudden noise echoed through the lair….seemingly coming from the bathroom.

"Boogady-Boogady!"

"Ahhh!"

After looking at each other, they both smiled before turning back to their former tasks…only to have Centrice come back in, her pace laid back and steady.

"Looks like I didn't make it." She stated absentmindedly, plopping herself back down into the spare chair.

Raph blinked, as did Leo.

"No duh!" They stated in unison, Leo never looking up from his paper, Raph never looking up from his pizza. Centrice sighed, finally able to relax. She had been rushing to try to prevent Mike from traumatizing Owen, but since it seemed that that was now over with, she might as well relax.

Damage like that just couldn't be undone.

So, with one more sigh of tranquility, she reached for another slice of pizza only to be startled from her peace by yet another sound.

"Uh, Centrice. I need your helllp!"

Mike's wine was undeniable and with yet another sigh she stood, abandoning the food she had yet to eat.

Meanwhile, Raph and Leo snickered from their respective spots at the table.

"Looks as if you're needed after all…"

Centrice growled.

Leo and his comments…Raph and his snickers…

They'll get theirs…

"Yoo-Hoo! Centrrriiiiccceee! I neeed youuuu!"

More laughter, more snickering, more angry thoughts...

Swallowing her pride, she left the laughing pair only to make her way to the bathroom, turned prison, turned labor camp.

"I need a vacation…" She muttered to herself. Her feet ached, her hands hurt, not to mention her strained back…she was in pain. Meanwhile, though, her mind only smiled before responding.

****

'But…you are **on vacation.'**

Centrice paused then, only to resume at the conformation.

Her mind was right, she was on vacation, or at least,

That's what she told her job…

"Crud. Some vacation…"

* * *

Mike looked at the hair in his hands, panic on his breath as he washed more and more of the dye out only to reveal more and more of the mess that lay underneath.

He froze, not really knowing what to do.

However, his hesitation did not go unnoticed.

"Is something wrong, Michelangelo?"

Owen peeked up from the stream of black water in hopes of looking into Michelangelo's face and maybe getting some answers as to what was wrong, but as it was, his attempt failed instantly. Well…more like it failed before it even began.

Before he could turn, or even breathe, Michelangelo was already at the door.

"Uh, Centrice. I need your helllp!"

And in response, Owen closed his eyes.

It seemed that the fates had officially heard his earlier pleas…

And declined.

Meaning, his day had officially gotten worse.

"Yoo-Hoo! Centrrriiiiccceee! I neeed youuuu!"

And the Fates were mocking him because of it.

* * *

"Mikey! What did you do?!"

Centrice's voice boomed in Owen's ear, leaving him cringing, but not as much as Michelangelo.

Actually, Michelangelo cringed in fear, not pain. But whatever he cringed in, it left him backing away from the pair, eyes wide as watched on in relative silence.

Meanwhile Centrice thoroughly examined the damage.

Owen sat in a static silence, more or less induced by the fearful turtle in sight as shedissected the mop that was his hair. Her disapproval filled the room almost instantly.

"Mike, how long did you leave it in?"

She looked over the vampire's hair and into the frightened eyes of the green beholder, and in turn, he blinked back.

"How…long?"

Well, if that had anything to do with the outcome, he was certainly screwed.

In search of a good answer, he twiddled with tails of his bandana, but still found none. He wasn't even sure what he did wrong, so he couldn't even diddle around it. So, instead, he just stated the truth, and hoped that he would live to see another day.

"Well…" He began, his bandana tails becoming more and more bunched in his hands. "I think the dye stayed in for about…oh, fifteen minutes, I guess."

He watched her evenly, not at all sure about how she would take the news, but preparing himself nevertheless. Lucky for him, it wasn't that big of a reaction.

Or at least, not as big as he was expecting.

Centrice groaned, before placing her face in her hand in exasperation.

"Mikey, did you read the directions?"

Her voice was flat, Owen observed. Flat and toneless, which seemed to do the trick. More of the orange bandana disappeared in a fist of green; Mike's fidgeting continuing as he responded.

"A little?"

Centrice smirked from behind her hand and the reference to their on running joke. However, this time, (just like every other time) 'A little' just wouldn't cut it.

"Mikey…" She looked up then, the smile never leaving her lips. It was a way to tell him that he was still wrong, but it wasn't horribly bad. And just as she hoped, he seemed to get the point well enough, the bandana tails falling from his hands and to their regular spots on his shoulder.

She eyed the newly formed wrinkles as she continued.

"If you read the directions, you would have known that the dye takes about a half an hour to set."

Mikey's mouth made an "o" before blinking in thought and understanding. Meanwhile, Centrice turned back to Owen's hair, teasing it lightly to survey the majority of the damage.

What a nightmare…

Pieces were completely black, being dyed perfectly well, while other pieces were just shades in between. And even then, some of his hair was just as white as when they started.

Totally uneven, and totally unacceptable, she made a promise…

"Owen?" She asked, and in response, he spoke for the very first time, his voice rather foreign as a result.

"Yes?"

Nevertheless, Centrice's voice was as determined as it was stern, stating the promise she was destined to keep…

"I will fix it."

Owen couldn't help but smile. Throughout the whole thing, the only thing that kept him steady and even _there_ was the idea that in the end, she would make sure he was how he should be. And in the end…

He was right.

"So, can I help finish Owen's hair?"

Meanwhile and from the other side of the bathroom, Mike's voice was hopeful; but when Centrice shook her head, his hope took an immediate dive.

Both vampire and girl looked up and into the face of complete devastation. Completely crestfallen and immensely sad, the turtle stood, his entire demeanor expressing his complete utter melancholy.

Or at least, it did, that is until Centrice spoke.

"Mikey, you're relieved. They're eating pizza in the kitchen; go grab a slice before it's gone."

Instantly, Mike's sadness was a thing of the past as he quickly "whooped" before high-tailing it right out of the room.

Centrice grinned.

That's Michelangelo. A one-track mind, all the way.

And just as he would, even after he left the room, his thoughts still were heard.

"Pizza! Yay, you guys got…pizza-Hey, where did you get this?!"

There was a small pause in Mike's booming voice, (that was filled with the muttered sounds of someone else) before Mike's voice screeched through the lair once more.

"That was my hidden stash! I was saving it for Dinner! Raph, how could you?!"

Centrice nearly collapsed, her laughter filling the bathroom at the irony of it all.

Poor Raph. Don had told her earlier about all the events that had occurred since Owen had entered the lair.

The badgering of Raph over Mike's pizza being one of them.

It seemed that even now, Raph still couldn't catch a break. Leo had eaten the pizza too, having finished before Raphael, but still a culprit all the same, as well as Centrice. But nooo, Mikey only saw Raph, and therefore, Raph would be held responsible.

She had to admit, though, the idea of Raph being "punished" by the orange bandana-wearin' turtle left her smiling.

And as she looked down into Owen's multicolored locks, she could tell that it left him smiling as well.

Well, might as well get started.

"Hmm…it's so uneven, it definitely needs a re-dye…" She trailed off, turning to look at the half-empty bottle of black dye that remained. That would have been just the right amount to do the trick, except for the face that as time after the initial mixing; the black goop was basically… useless, leaving Owen's hair unfinished.

And Centrice unsatisfied.

There must be a way to get this all fixed, or covered up, or something?!

"Hmm, it's not **too** bad, maybe he can just wear a baseball cap or somethin-" However, she didn't get to finish her thought for a new thought dawned on her just as quickly.

And in the spur of the moment, it was that same thought that lead her away from Owen, and to the nearly forgotten bags at the door.

She should have thought of it sooner!

That dye hadn't been the only one they bought. Yeah, _she_ had bought the black dye, but that didn't keep Mikey from finding other options. Bright red, purple, and orange colors inhabited Mikey's bag; there being almost every color in the rainbow, actually.

At the time, she scolded Mikey, telling him that Owen probably wouldn't be caught dead in any of those colors. But being Mikey, he still continued to buy them, despite her discouragement.

However, now, she was rather glad that he had continued to buy them, despite her words.

No, the oranges hues and purple mixes still wouldn't work on Owen, they never would, but she did see at least _one _color that would work…and it might just be the solution they needed…

She found the box, and with a wide grin, she held it to the light.

Oh yeah, this was it.

Meanwhile, Owen watched from his chair, puzzled as to how Centrice was going to fix their "little" problem, but confident that she would find a way.

However, as he continued to observe her, it seemed that the solution was a little less than…expected.

"Midnight-Blue?"

Centrice turned then, only to come face to face with the vampire in question.

It was funny, he didn't sound that close when he spoke, but there he was nevertheless…

He took as step back then from reading over Centrice shoulder, not really giving her sudden turn a second thought. Besides, what she was holding seemed to be _way _more interesting.

"So you think that will do the trick?"

His voice was questioning, and genuinely intrigued. This was all very new to him, he never having the experience of anything like this in his long life. So in a way, it seemed like an adventure all in itself.

The 'exciting' adventure of hairdressing…

And he could tell, Centrice felt the same way.

"I think this might work, Owen. You know, this might just come out better than I thought!"

She hurriedly pushed him back, making him stumbled backwards for a moment or two before falling into the chair he had all but grown accustomed to.

Meanwhile, she continued, opening the box as a newly found excitement filled her eyes.

"Well, there's only one way to find out."

* * *

"So she kicked you out?"

Leo raised an eyebrow.

In reality, he was not at all surprised at the outcome, but he dare not let Mikey know that. He was already upset about his consumed pizza; therefore, it was a good idea not to upset him more…

Or else, they would never hear the end of it.

Now, Mikey flopped down and into the chair Centrice had occupied only moment's earlier, his eyes still set on 'glare.' Destination: Raphael.

Raphael only rolled his eyes in response.

"Mike, I-"

"Ah! Raph, do not speak to me! I am not interested in conversing with Pizza Infidels! Be gone!"

Raph stared wide-eyed as Mike's green palm was suddenly thrusted into his face, mere inches from his beak at Mike's dismissal.

'What the hell?'

However, his mild shock only lasted a few moments, Raph huffing once before actually complying, getting up and stalking off. Soft muttering could be heard as he made his way to his room, something about dumb, pizza loving turtles that could use a kick in the…..then the muttering trailed off completely as the door closed behind him.

Leo blinked, finally placing down his paper, only to see that Mike still held the same stance, his hand out, his face away from the now empty seat.

Only after the "infidel" of a turtle was truly gone did he finally break his stance, turning to Leo once again as if nothing had happened.

"So, what are we supposed to do now, fearless one?"

Mike's voice was light and cheery, a giant contrast to the heavy and solemn tones he held with his brother in red. And in response, Leo only chuckled before replying, completely used to every mood swing this turtle could muster.

Hey, living with Michelangelo for twenty-three years, had its benefits after all…

"Well, I guess that after Owen is finished we just give him his clothes, and then he'll be off…"

Mike blinked.

"That's it?!"

Leo only shrugged.

"Well yeah…" He waited for Mike to sit back before revealing the rest of the plan, a small smile on his beak. "Donny's wiring job should be enough, don't you think?"

"Wiring job?" Mike was at a loss, and it showed, so with a mischievous smile Leo leaned in, revealing their ingenious plan.

"Do you remember those clothes Raph picked out, well, Donny has them now, and for good reason…"

* * *

"Are you sure he's done?"

Raph crossed his arms, leaning against the hallway's wall. He, like his other brothers, Leonardo and Michelangelo, watched the bathroom door in anticipation. Centrice, had, only moments earlier, called out saying that Owen was almost though.

Thus, calling them all to the door in wait.

However, with at the call came the alert to Donatello that the clothes were needed soon, so with one last adjustment to his "installments" he brought them out, only to meet his brothers, of whom already waited by the door.

"Hello." He greeted simply before joining them in wait. Raphael did not speak but chose instead to move over, allowing Donatello a spot on the wall as well.

Now with Donatello, all of them was there, Leonardo kneeling next to the bathroom's doorframe while Mike all-out sat on the other side. Donatello and Raphael inhabited the other wall, both leaning nearly identical to each other, except for the fact that Donny held the dark clothing.

As a result, this was the scene Centrice was welcomed to when she finally reopened the door, and in response, she raised an eyebrow.

"What are you guys doing?"

At the sudden speech, all four of them looked up before straitening, Donatello taking the liberty of handing her the dark materials, of which she received with a small smile.

"This was what I was going to ask you guys about, but like always, you guy are already a step ahead."

She gave the bunch one more weary eye before turning back, seemingly delivering the clothes to the vampire himself. A muttered 'thank you' was heard, only to be followed by a feminine 'you're welcome.'

And with that, Centrice left the bathroom only to run into the turtles once more.

"What are you guy's doing?" She asked for a second time. The first time had been overall justified, the bunch being there for the purpose of delivering the clothes (although _why _they were _all _there, was beyond her.) But now they had no excuse.

Other than the obvious.

However, and just as always, Michelangelo was the first one to come up with a suitable excuse.

"Awaiting the reemergence of ET! Donny's calculations show that he will reappear in this very spot!"

Scratch 'Suitable.' Try Retarded.

All eyes turned to Michelangelo, who only shrugged.

"Hey, at least I tried, what were you guys' excuses?!" He folded his arms, as Centrice only rolled her eyes.

"Right, well, whatever. You guys move it! He'll be out in a second, so wait in the den if you are still moved to."

She shooed the turtles away from the doorway, but was suspired to see that they actually listed to her, each one of them getting up from their relative spots only to shuffle into the Den.

She followed, her eyebrows knit at their actions.

Something was up, and she would make sure to get to the bottom of it.

"What are you guys up to? Really, I know you guys. Something's up. So spill it!"

Newly relocated, the turtles resided in the Den, making themselves comfortable at various parts of the living quarters. From his spot now on the long couch, Donatello sighed. He knew Centrice was just too smart to let something like this bypass her.

But would her knowledge of their simple but complicated plan jeopardize the entire thing?

"I'm waiting…."

He hoped not.

With a deep breath, Donny sighed, but spoke, his voice calm and collected. He would let Centrice in on it. Besides, it wasn't as if he had a choice at this point now anyway.

"Well, you know those clothes Raph picked out?"

Centrice nodded, her angered stance relaxing to one of conception and then complete understanding as her mind put two and two and two together, and indeed, she got six.

Donatello almost blinked.

Almost.

It seemed that even without his explanations, she was still able to figure it all out.

Her next words all but confirmed the fact.

"So, he's bugged?"

Don nodded in conformation. "Exactly."

But she wasn't finished. With a raised eyebrow, she continued.

"And you don't want him to know about it."

This time it was a statement, not a question.

She was past questions at this point.

"That would be preferable."

Leo spoke up from his spot behind the couch, of which he was currently leaned against; head down, arms crossed. But now, he looked up, turning his head to face the imposing Centrice, eye almost stern, but not quite.

Basically, it was an order, but not so much of an order that Leo had to impose is "Leadership" to demand it. Just a silent plea to keep it quiet, hence his eyes.

Well, whatever, it was, Centrice listened and understood, giving Leo a small nod of agreement before moving to sit next to her significant other, not having seen him for basically what felt like the entire day.

However, the sound of an opening door cut off any movement she could have hoped to accomplish as well as all of the movement in the room.

Donatello looked up, his eyes wide in anticipation and likewise Leo turned questioning eyes to the archway as well. Raphael, from his spot in the easy chair, only sat up, his eyes also on the den's opening in anticipation.

However, the biggest reaction seemed to come from the "youngest" turtle, his seat just happening to be on the floor next to the easy chair. At the sound, Michelangelo's entire body seemed to go ridged as his face broke out into the biggest smile possible. Before anyone could even blink, Mike had his hand to his mouth, his whistle already echoing in the entire lair.

"Yoo-Hoo, in here, O'! Oww! Geez! Raph, what was that for?!"

Mike's hand immediacy checked to see if he was bleeding, the flick to forehead, hurting more that he would have liked to admit. Raph snickered from his spot in the Easy boy, obviously pleased with the current events.

"Call it payback, Pizza boy…"

Raph trailed off as footsteps approached the archway only moments before the figure truly appeared.

A figure that none of them actually recognized.

'Korn' inhabited the youth's short-sleeved black shirt, the white letters slashed against black, which seemed to be the only coloration on his clothes. The rest of his outfit consisted of a simple wide-legged black pants, of which, covered his shoes completely as he walked.

However, that did not complete the ensemble.

Around his waist was a silver chain that ran through various loops before hanging lax on his side. As a result, it jingled when he moved. A various amount of other "jewelry" also inhabited his body. Studded black bands circling each wrist in black and silver, while a single large black studded band inhabited his neck as well, joining up with the silver necklace that already resided there.

A rather large pendent hung from his neck in beauty and blaze, the colors and shape of the pendent making it the most complicated piece of jewelry over all. The pendant itself, (another piece from Michelangelo's "bag-o-goodies") hung on a small silver chain, which in turn, accented the silver in the pendent as well.

An orb of blue, yellow, and purples inhabited that pendant, seemingly swirled around like the world itself, the silver around it holding it like space as it should.

While looking through the bag, the pendent itself seemed to be the first thing that caught his eye, and as such, he couldn't help but put it on.

Especially since it seemed to tone with his hair so well.

Blue.

That's what it was, well, mostly.

Where the black dye had failed to take, the blue dye took over, thus giving his hair a sort of "opaque" effect. In certain light, the entire thing could have been mistaken for both, black or blue, but in reality, it was both black _and _blue.

Which, he would admit, he rather liked.

And if that wasn't enough, the hairstyle Centrice cut it into was enough to change anyone's appearance, or at least in his opinion anyways. Still rather long, it stood straight into the hair only to have a few uncooperative pieces fall gracefully into his face and eyes.

But only a few, which suit him just fine, he noticed.

Now, transformation complete, Owen stood before the judge and jury; their reaction sought out and waited for.

And like he thought he would, their "Reactions" were immediately received.

"Holy Crap!"

"Wow, what a change!"

"You look totally unrecognizable!"

"Dude! You look awesome!"

However, despite the others, Leonardo still was silent. Sensing his seriousness, the others fell silent as well, all eyes on him as he pushed himself off of the couch in order to get a good look at the vampire before him. He walked up to Owen, circling him completely in silent contemplation, and in turn, Owen watched him. That is until Leo completed his circle.

Meeting Owen's gaze fort he first time.

Owen kept his Leonardo's gaze, not one to back down in a stare down, but still curious as to what Leo was getting at.

That is until Leonardo suddenly…grinned.

The lair was sent into uproar, Michelangelo's "whoops" filling everyone's ears, but only after Leo statement of conviction and blessing.

"He is ready."

-

OK, Yay! That's over with. This is the end of this part, Ladies and Gents, but there is more to come (hard to explain, look at my Info page for info, it's all explained there) But don't worry, we're on the home stretch. The end is coming up very soon, and that "End" will be under the Name, "Blood Lust: The Symphony's Coda" and that will be that! Look out, it's coming soon! R and R in the meantime though! Hehe!

Oh, also another note.

I am leaving…tonight actually (well, tomorrow morning depending on how you look at it) For Wisconsin, and I will be gone for an entire week. Because of this, I have decided to post this chapter before I would have liked too. I needed to get to bed, so I didn't get a chance to do a final "proofread" before posting. So any mistakes or such you found during you read I am sorry for. If you want, you can leave me a note in your reviews of the errors found, and I will get to correcting them as soon as I get back. Thank you :)


End file.
